


Deadly Entanglements

by Kaiyashu



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Absolutely Not For Children, Alternate Universe - 1930s, Alternate Universe - Mafiatale/Mobtale, Alternate Universe - Prohibition Era, Detective Noir, Dubious Consent, Dubious Morality, Ecto-Penis (Undertale), Ecto-Tongue (Undertale), F/M, Female Frisk, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Frisk is 18, Frisk is smart, Gratuitous Smut, Mafia Sans, No save points, Pacifist Frisk, Papyrus is tough, Relationship(s), Sans is a badass, Shameless Smut, Smut, Smut begins in chapter 2
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-11-07
Packaged: 2018-09-13 21:34:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 62,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9143176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaiyashu/pseuds/Kaiyashu
Summary: Prohibition Era, Ebott City:A place where humans and monsters have always existed together with a strained and somewhat fragile peace. Most of the city’s denizens simply want to live out their daily lives in a simple cohabitation. Life, however is rarely so easy. There are five large gangs within the city limits, one of the more powerful ones being made up completely of monsters. The balance of power between the four human mafia gangs and the monster mob is delicate, spurring racism and acts of violence from both sides.Frisk, the younger sister of infamous detective Chara Dreemurr, receives an anonymous call with clues to the case against her older brother’s sudden mysterious disappearance. Unable to obtain police assistance, she takes up her brother’s mantle and plunges into the seedy underbelly of Ebott City’s criminal organizations. Each new piece of information only brings about more questions as the web of confusion and deceit is spun around her. Who can she trust in this dangerous game? Will she find Chara before it’s too late or will she become hopelessly entangled in the sinister lifestyles of the mob?





	1. The Missing Detective

**Author's Note:**

> So the age of consent in prohibition times was around 14. As I'm opposed to writing a sexually explicit mafia/detective fanfiction for Undertale with her at such a young age, Frisk is depicted as 18 in this story. Everything else in this story will be as historically accurate as possible while also staying somewhat faithful to the game's lore.
> 
>  **Please note:** This story will have explicit sexual content in many of the chapters. If this makes you uncomfortable, you should turn back now. If you enjoy this type of content, welcome fellow sinners!

### Chapter 1: The Missing Detective

The first golden rays of the morning sun shined through the windows and into the live-in office of one Chara Dreemurr, Private Investigator. The radio station crackled a little as it played a song by The Virginians but rather than dance to it, the current occupant was diligently cleaning. Washing the dishes, sweeping the floor and scrubbing the dust from the panes of glass on the picture frames, the girl worked until the place gleamed. A pot of coffee was brewing in the kitchenette and the warm scent of freshly baked sugar cookies wafted out towards the work desk.

Atop the desk sat a lamp, a small notebook and some writing utensils. Loose papers were strewn over the mahogany surface haphazardly, a small mote of entropy in the otherwise tidy office. Though it was tempting, she knew better than to disturb her older brother’s desk when he’d been hot on a case. Chara never shared any of the details of a case with her until after he’d solved it and had landed the perpetrator behind bars, but it always seemed so exciting to listen to. He would go on for hours talking about how he’d tracked down missing persons and solved small crimes, relaying with each minute detail every aspect of the case.

And of course, Frisk listened intently. Each tiny detail was mentally filed away as she listened to her older brother recounting harrowing tales of mysteries that sounded like something you’d hear on a radio program. More often than not, he would let her think hard about the clues of each case and ask her if she could figure out the culprit. And she was often correct in her deductions, causing her brother to praise her for her sharp wit and tell her that she should become his assistant someday. He would then ruffle her short dark hair affectionately and tug on his suspenders in that familiar way he’d always did when he was feeling jovial.

She let out a wistful sigh as she smiled at the memory, having finished the cleaning in record time. Chara wasn’t home yet, but she wasn’t worried all that much. Sometimes her older brother would be gone for a few days on some of the harder cases. There was rarely a job that kept him from returning for over a week and never without sending word. Once she had packed away the cleaning supplies and washed her hands, she set to work on breakfast. Cracking a couple eggs into a frying pan, she tossed in some bacon on the side and turned on the stove.

As breakfast started sizzling in the frying pan, Frisk padded over to a wall mirror and checked her reflection, combing her fluffy, messy bobbed hair out of her warm brown eyes. Her youthful features were accentuated as she winked and smiled cheekily into the mirror, her skin was still lightly tanned and she sure looked swell in the dark gray trousers and crisp white dress shirt she was wearing. Sure, it was hardly feminine, but that wasn’t her top priority. Her top priority when traversing the city was to blend in and not attract attention, and the easiest way to do that was to dress like a young lad in public. By tucking her short hair up into her newsboy cap and donning one of Chara’s old coats, her disguise kept her safe from would be perverts. Her short stature and slim build only made the illusion all the more believable.

Before long, she piled her breakfast onto a plate and ate heartily, enjoying the calming piano music emanating from the radio. As Frisk devoured her eggs and bacon, she spied a framed picture of her and her brother with their adoptive mother. The two of them had their arms around the large goat woman’s waist and her soft, furry arms wrapped around them in a loving hug. All three of them were smiling happily, despite the social difficulties of a monster adopting and raising two human children. Luckily, their mother still lived just outside the city limits and didn’t have to put up with much negativity or mean spirited remarks. Frisk smiled fondly at the picture and finished off her breakfast, recalling that the main reason she currently lived with her brother in the city was because their mother had deemed him too much of a slob to live alone.

The sudden trill of the phone snapped Frisk out of her amusing thoughts and she gingerly picked up the telephone. “Chara Dreemurr’s office, may I help you?” Frisk answered, grabbing a fresh pocket sized notebook and a pencil, flipping it open to the first page, “Mr. Dreemurr’s not in right now, can I take a message?” There was a moment of silence for a moment, then a slight cough on the other end of the line. Just as she was about to prompt the caller once again, a man’s quiet voice finally came over the line and spoke to her. “Who is this?”

“His assistant.” Frisk offered, unwilling to give too many details to someone who hadn’t first given their name. This was the first time she’d ever spoken to someone who didn’t introduce themselves right away and it unnerved her a little. If this was some sort of shady deal then she’d have to be on her guard. There was a hum of acknowledgement from the voice on the other end and the man spoke again. “The gumshoe’s behind the eight ball right now and he’s taken a bunk. I’m sure you noticed he hasn’t come back in a few days, right?”

A distinct feeling of dread started creeping up her spine at his words. This mysterious person knew Chara hadn’t come back to the office, had mention he was in a tight spot, and now… “He’s disappeared? Are you certain? Is he safe? Where is he?” Frisk asked, fear for her brother’s well-being driving her questions. She clutched the phone to her ear, hoping desperately that this was nothing but some kind of sick joke. “I don’t have much time before they get back.” The voice said urgently, prompting her to get ready to write in the notebook, “Find a way into the MTT Resort tonight. There’s gonna be a bunch of made men there, meeting with a monster and watching the canary from a table in the back. Keep an ear out for them if you can and you’ll catch the wire. After that, breeze off. Unless you want to get whacked by their button men.”

Before she could ask any more details, the connection was broken. Leaving her to shakily hang the phone up and stare down at her hastily written notes. There was going to be a gathering of gangsters in the MTT Resort tonight, watching a woman sing onstage while they have some kind of meeting that she was supposed to listen in on. What did that have to do with finding her older brother and how exactly was she supposed to get in there? It wasn’t like she had a lot of money on hand to blow on the entrance fee for a one-time visit, let alone some fancy clothing to blend in with. No, she was going to have to be smart about this. Her older brother needed her. Slipping the small notebook and pencil into her jacket pocket, she shoved her arms into the sleeves and tucked her hair up into her cap. If she left now, she could case the joint and find ways to get in and out undetected. Taking a deep breath, she set her resolve and strode from the office and into the streets.

 

It hadn’t taken a long time to find the resort and a way inside it. Wordlessly she ducked into the workers’ entrance when no one was paying attention and snuck past the few workers that happened to be busily taking phone calls and writing in account books. It was evening at this point and Frisk had decided to make her move after having spent the better part of the day scrutinizing the building and formulating a plan. As she stealthily crept through the lesser used areas in the back, she came across a dressing room for some of the female employees. With quiet feet, she slinked inside and breathed a sigh of relief at finding it currently unoccupied. A quick search of the room earned her the realization that she was in the changing room for the cigarette girls, complete with makeup, outfits and cigarette trays.

Wasting no time, Frisk shed her boyish outer clothing and hid them in a bundle in the corner of the room, carefully pulling on nylon pantyhose so as not to rip the sheer, delicate fabric. The little black dress was exactly that – the neckline dipped low enough to expose the tops of her breasts and the skirt was short enough to make her triple check that her panties weren’t showing. She applied the makeup carefully, disliking the feel of it on her skin, but made sure to accent her eyes with liner and mascara. Adding a splash of rouge to her cheeks made her appear as if she was blushing lightly and the ruby red lipstick she smoothed over her plump lips made her look glamorous. She studied her reflection momentarily, then grabbed the sharpened eyeliner pencil and added a small beauty mark near the corner of the mouth.

Eventually, she found a pair of black high heels that fit her and she slipped them on, studying her reflection. The image of herself in the mirror looked fantastic and she blew a kiss for good measure. Perfect, now they wouldn’t know her if she ran into them on the streets. Donning the cigarette tray and a pillbox hat, she put on a confident air and walked out of the changing room. _Here’s to hoping I can pull this off without getting caught,_ Frisk thought to herself as she casually stepped into the decadent main entertainment area. She glanced at a cigarette girl out of the corner of her eye and took mental notes of the girl’s flirtatious actions – the way she’d lean towards the man who’d called her over, titter cutely at something he said and bat her lashes at him. Ah, so _that_ was the way to do it.

Steeling herself with determination, Frisk began to explore the resort, swaying her hips in the same way the other ladies were walking around. She fought down the urge to tug the back of her short skirt to make sure her butt was covered and made her way across the floor, casually calling out, “Cigars, cigarettes?” It was a matter of moments before she was flagged down by a gentleman and she walked over and leaned towards him, flashing him a dazzling smile and asking which brand he’d like. One flirtatious line and a quarter later, she was once again on her way through the dimly lit concert hall. The room was filled with tables for customers to enjoy smoke, drink and conversation during the show. The spotlight was currently on a gorgeous blonde in a dazzling dress as she mesmerized her audience with her angelic voice and her luscious curves.

There was no time to appreciate the fascinating song, however as Frisk spied several large, impeccably dressed men converging at one of the tables in the back. _That must be them,_ she thought darkly to herself. A small knot formed in her stomach as she slowly strolled closer to the table, flitting from customer to customer in a way she hoped looked inconspicuous. Her ears just barely caught the stiff pleasantries of the greetings and she listened carefully.

“so i hear you guys are lookin’ for a deal.”

The voice was so unexpected, Frisk couldn’t help but glance over at the table. The sight nearly made her gasp in surprise. There, seated next to a man who could only be accurately described as an underboss, was a broad shouldered skeleton monster with a cigar held between his grinning teeth. His suit was a deep navy color with pinstripes, his undershirt crisp and white beneath a sleek black vest. The fedora he wore was a solid navy with a black band around it and his black tie rested on his wide chest. But the suit wasn’t what caught her attention. It was his eyes – or rather, eye sockets – they were black as pitch and large with small white pupil-like lights. Not only that, but as his gaze swept the surrounding area, he blinked, snapping her back to attention.

 _Don’t stare,_ Frisk reminded herself as she moved to sell another pack of cigarettes, _They’ll catch you._

“I see you get right to the point. Good, good.” The human next to him, the underboss, said as he exhaled smoke from his own cigar, “Let’s wrap this up quick so we can enjoy that show.” It was clear that he was eyeing the songstress as he spoke and Frisk did her best not to think about his carnal intentions. He continued, however. “So you dewdroppers are gonna supply us with the genuine article, right? We need to lubricate our belts before they can hit all sixes. … What’s the damage?” The man asked, paying little attention to his three goons that were keeping an eye out for people trying to listen in. Without missing a beat, the monster replied, “twenty-five large.”

“Twenty-five large?!” The human hissed in disbelief, slamming a hand onto the table, “You tryin’ to put one over on me?” His eyes narrowed on the skeleton, but the monster’s grin didn’t so much as falter a single millimeter. “now i ain’t an unreasonable guy vinny,” He began, puffing richly scented cigar smoke from between his teeth, “maybe we can work something out. how’s about twenty large and some new territory? i’ll even be nice and offer to protect both the monsters _and_ the humans living in the area. ya might wanna think about it bucko, ‘specially since word has it you have the curse on that sleuth.” At this, Frisk’s ears perked up even as she was bending down to light the cigarette of a seated man. An oddly distinct feeling of being watched hit her just then and she turned towards the source of the feeling.

Immediately, her eyes locked with the skeleton’s gaze.

Had he… had he just ogled her backside as she’d been bending over? She suddenly felt very vulnerable right then, her brain trying to force her mouth to say something, _anything_ that would prevent her from being bumped off. “ ‘scuse me toots, i could use another.” As if to clarify, he tapped the now tiny, burnt out stub of a cigar with the tip of one of his phalanges. Frisk blinked, dumbfounded for a second before realization and relief hit her. She was not caught, she was still safe. “Of course, sir!” She said sweetly, shuffling over to him and leaning towards him so that he could see what brands were on her tray, “What’s your pleasure?” The question was an innocent one, but for the briefest of moments, the grin he gave her was anything but. However, he picked out a Cuban cigar and asked her what he owed her as she carefully lit it for him.

Instantly, she froze. Crap. She hadn’t sold any cigars yet and had absolutely no idea how much they were supposed to cost, let alone whether or not she should actually make a skeletal mobster pay for it. Taking a slow breath to steady her nerves, she gave him her best flirtatious smile and shyly responded, “For you, handsome? This one’s on the house.” The stunned look that came over his face said it all – he was _definitely_ not expecting that. In fact, he nearly dropped his cigar into his lap as she scurried away from the table and back out towards the main lobby. His eyes watched her intently until she was out of sight. His gaze still held the spot she had disappeared to for a few moments longer before he finally snapped himself out of his trance.

“i’ll uh… i’ll be back soon.” He decided aloud, rising from the table.

His ‘business associate’ simply nodded in acknowledgement. “Take your time Sans.”

 

Heart fluttering in her chest like a panicked bird in a cage, Frisk tried to appear as nonchalant as possible as she made her way towards the changing room. Her nerves were on edge with that little escapade she had just pulled. What was she thinking, flirting with a mobster like that?! An adrenaline filled giggle threatened to spill from her lips at the sheer absurdity of it all. That stunt could have landed her in hot water, but she’d escaped and now it was time to book it. Though she hadn’t gleaned much information, she still managed to nab a few clues as to what kind of case her brother might have been working on.

No.

What kind of case he was _currently_ working on, because he was alive! Chara was alive and trying to solve a case that had probably become much bigger than he’d previously anticipated. But the details of the case were unclear, with the exception that at least one, if not two mob families were savvy to his meddling. Perhaps that was why her older brother hadn’t returned to his office home and why he didn’t even call her to let her know. He was obviously trying to protect her, but was he aware that they knew he was snooping around? She had no idea.

But that didn’t matter right now.

No, the only thing that mattered right now was returning to the ladies changing room, shedding this outfit in favor of her street clothes and getting the heck out of here before someone realized she wasn’t a real employee. When Frisk was safely inside the changing room and away from prying eyes, she let out a sigh of relief and sat the tray of tobacco products down. There was perhaps an hour or so before the show in the concert hall ended and there would be no one to catch her changing back to her street clothes. Quickly scanning the room with her eyes, she found it to be empty and decided to waste no time in kicking off those awful high heeled shoes.

Relief immediately flooded her as her feet were freed from the pinching confines of the fashionable footwear. The moment she tossed the pillbox hat into a corner, her eyes caught the reflection in the mirror before her. Someone was standing behind her. Her body tensed involuntarily at the sudden realization that she might just be in a lot more trouble than she was prepared to face. Her mind raced, wondering if there was a way that she could get out of this situation unscathed, but all thoughts of an escape plan was abruptly cut off by the sound of a throat clearing. There was no way she was getting away unscathed. Slowly Frisk turned around to find that her situation was worse than she’d thought.

“heya toots.”

The skeleton mobster had followed her into the changing room. If her heart had been fluttering before, then it was no less than pounding now. What was he doing in here? “H-hey,” She stammered weakly, clearly unprepared for this kind of situation, “T-this is the ladies changing room.” He chuckled softly to himself as he let his gaze wander lazily up and down her flustered form. “i know.” Came his simple reply as he reached a hand back towards the doorknob. However, rather than turning it and letting himself out, he locked it without taking his gaze off her for a single moment. And then he took a step towards her. Finding her voice again, she nervously offered, “You, um… you’re not a lady.”

Another step. “thanks for noticing. i’m flattered.”

Frisk’s mind stumbled over itself in a wild attempt to find a logical reason for why her mouth uttered such foolish observations in this crucial moment. What was wrong with her? What was she supposed to do now that she was trapped alone, locked in a room with a dangerous mobster? She had no idea. And while her mind was preoccupied with questions, he had closed the distance between the two of them and was standing unnecessarily close to her. He was, she realized with a bit of surprise, only a few inches taller than her. Oddly enough, this comforted her in a small way. “you ran off before i could thank you for the cigar,” He began, the white pupils in his eye sockets drinking in every little detail of her face, “i can’t have you thinkin’ i was ungrateful now, can i? that would be _rude._ ”

Frisk wasn’t sure if she liked where this conversation seemed to be heading, but she wasn’t fool enough to give him any sass. She could play this game if it meant that she’d leave here alive. After all, what good was she to her brother if she ended up dead? “What did you have in mind?” Her question was nearly breathless, but that was due in part to being terrified almost out of her mind. His grin was one of appreciation as he leaned a bit closer to her and gave her a little wink. “oh, i’ve got a few things in mind for you and i, doll, but what’s the rush? you nervous or something? i promise i won’t bite… hard.” A bony hand came up to her face and delicately brushed the back of his phalanges against the soft skin of her cheek. They were unexpectedly warm, somewhat smooth, and weirdly enough were approximately the size of a normal man’s hands. At least, a man roughly the same height.

Her face flushed pink at his blunt and suggestive admission, but she steeled herself to do what she must. “Are you trying to fluster me or does it come naturally?” Frisk asked, keeping her eyes trained to the lights in his eyes. _Keep it together Frisk, act like you’re used to flirting and everything will be fine._ Her mental pep talk helped to fill her with determination as she found the courage to straighten his tie for him. It took him by surprise, but he made no move to stop her. Rather, a low hum of approval escaped him and it only reminded her that she was playing with fire. Be nice, keep him happy and things were sure to turn out fine… right?

“i haven’t seen you around here before, dollface. where were ya hidin’?” He asked, not bothering to mask his interest in her. A pang of worry shot through her, but she kept her expression schooled into a coy look. Her mind faltered for only a moment before it came up with a solution. “I decided to try out this new gig, but I’m not sure if I want to stay. This dress is a bit more… revealing than I thought it’d be.” Frisk supplied, looking away in embarrassment and fidgeting with the hem of her skirt. That should be a believable enough excuse, considering how uncomfortable she actually felt while wearing it. His close proximity certainly wasn’t helping either. If he were any closer, she'd be wearing him like a blanket.

“well, that’s kinda the point. y’know, to show off those nice gams of yours.” Amusement was in his voice, “but hey, if you don’t like that dress i’ll understand if you wanna take it off.” That was a bold statement. Frisk’s eyes snapped back up to his face, heat coloring her cheeks at his audacity and mouth sputtering unintelligibly. Her reaction only made him laugh heartily and he finally, _finally_ took a step back to give her some space to compose herself. It felt like it wasn’t enough, especially after his lewd comment and she blinked owlishly at him, still mortified. Though his laughter died down, his grin didn’t falter in the slightest. Extending his hand towards her in an unexpected friendly gesture, he introduced himself, “the name’s sans. sans the skeleton.”

Hesitating for a second, she delicately placed a small, slim hand in his. Should she lie about her name to try and keep herself hidden from him after this encounter? She seriously was considering it. He was a mobster after all and those guys were never good news. But on the other hand, not telling him could also be disastrous. What if he caught her in the lie? Surely he would be furious and he could very well be capable of utterly destroying her and everyone she loved. Neither option was optimal at this point, but she had to make her decision. With a shaky breath that she hoped he didn’t notice, she replied, “My name is Frisk. Uh… Frisk Dreemurr.” His brow bones shot up in interest immediately and he pressed her knuckles to his teeth, a small jolt of magic danced over them lightly at the action. She was intrigued by the feeling and by Sans’ sudden shift in intentions. Maybe he would leave her alone after all –

“i want to see you again.”

Or maybe he wouldn’t. Well, so much for that idea.

“You do?” Frisk asked, eyes wide as her mind unhelpfully listed off the ways he could probably kill her. She could be sliced, strangled, filled with hot lead and thrown into a dumpster, fitted with concrete shoes and thrown into the bay, really, the possibilities were endless. Sans seemed almost as if he could read her thoughts just by looking at her face. “don’t worry toots, i’m not gonna hurt you. in fact, if you play your cards right, i think it’ll benefit the both of us. i’ll scratch your back, you scratch mine, yeah?” His white pupils glowed brightly as he spoke, attention sharply focused on her once more, “so don’t bother skippin’ off on me or anything, ‘cause i’ll come lookin’, capiche?”

She mutely nodded her head. Those words held a clear warning: _don’t try to leave town or I WILL find you._ She hadn’t exactly considered leaving town, just relocating, but now that the option was taken away, her confidence in finding Chara started floundering. Frisk swallowed a lump in her throat and decided that she was going to have to be very, very careful. One wrong move and she was bound to be in for a bad time.


	2. Sweet Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Notes:** The mafia gangs in this story are fictional, but they are heavily inspired by actual mobs that exist and/or used to exist. I myself am Sicilian, Irish, German and Dutch and in **NO WAY** do I condone any type of racism in real life, I simply wish for the story to feel as authentic as possible. This fanfiction was and is written with loads of research into the 1930s, prohibition era etiquette and slang, famous mob families, famous mobsters and so forth.

### Chapter Two: Sweet Dreams

The city was always relatively quiet this late at night. Most of the daytime businesses had closed down by now, their windows darkened and the shades drawn to protect against prying eyes. For the most part, the streets were bare. Most respectable people had gone home by now and were spending time with their families. There were those who preferred the nightlife, however, and were out enjoying themselves. Some went to fancy upper class parties, where they schmoozed with well-dressed and beautiful people, while others chose low-key bars to unwind in. 

Frisk chose neither. 

In fact, she was quickly making her way back out of the MTT Resort’s servants’ entrance and into the streets. Her heart was still thundering in her chest as she discreetly walked as quickly as she could across the well-kept roads. When she was a block away from the resort, she hailed a cab and had it take her back to the office. Once Frisk had let herself in and locked the door behind her, her shoulders sagged and she finally relaxed. Finally, safe at last. The first thing she did upon reaching the desk was quickly sketch out a rough image of the underboss she’d glimpsed. It had only been a quick look, but the importance of drawing his face in the notebook took priority. Short dark hair, narrow eyes, thick brows, wide but harsh nose, mouth set in a thin sneer, olive skin… probably of Italian heritage. There, that should help her identify him later. It had been one heck of a night. 

She couldn’t believe how lucky she’d been that her scheme had gone off without a hitch. As far as she could tell, none of the resort employees paid her any mind. Normally she’d prefer not to do anything so dangerous, but at least she didn’t appear hinky-looking as she kept an ear on their conversation. Even the roscoes were fooled by her borrowed getup. Prohibition had been placed into effect by the feds when she was a child and the sale or purchase of alcoholic beverages would get a guy thrown into the slammer. Speakeasies and bars were commonplace despite the ban, but so were police raids. The force had trouble trying to shut them down, particularly when mafia hitmen started showing up to remove them from the premises. Frisk’s mother probably never had dreams of her darling daughter as a kitchen appliance, and even standing in one of those joints made the odds of her becoming a lead colander that much more uncomfortable.

She jotted down the information she’d managed to overhear whilst in disguise. The human gang was looking for the monster mob to ‘lubricate their belts’ with the ‘genuine article’. Frisk pondered over that bit of mobster lingo for a few moments, trying to figure out what the heck they were talking about. The genuine article was obviously something that only monsters could provide them, so it was reasonably safe to assume they were talking about magic. Lubricate their belts with magic… did that mean they wanted to lace their alcoholic beverages with magic? If so, there might be side strange effects. Maybe it was an experience akin to drugs or something. She swiftly scribbled her theory into the notebook and pondered on it for a while. The whole thing seemed like an amicable business deal to her and her brows drew together as she wondered what that had to do with Chara, aside from the underboss of one of the human mobs having a vendetta against her brother. 

There were still so many questions and too few answers. If anything, the snippet of information just made everything more confusing. Why _did_ that guy have it out for her brother? Did he catch Chara in the act of espionage? Was he currently ordering his underlings to hunt him down and murder him? And who was he anyway? Which mafia family did he belong to? A dull throb started pulsating at her temples as she tried to consider every option possible. More information was needed for the sake of making any sense of this mess and that was something she just didn’t have right now. Frustrated at this point, she closed the notebook and shoved it into a desk drawer. Perhaps she could figure out something new tomorrow, something that just wasn’t coming to mind at that point in time. And then there was Sans. 

Now _that_ was a mobster the likes of which she’d never seen – not that she’d ever knowingly run into any of the Mafioso folk while she was out and about in the city. It was unexpected that he followed her into the women’s changing room at the MTT Resort and had invaded her personal space. She didn’t quite know how to handle him and it worried her a little. While a modern gal she was no flapper or floozy, wallflowers like her were not in the practice of warding off men and monsters with sass or a smile. There was no precedent in her world for dealing with a thug playing blood hound for her skirt. At first, he was complimenting her, sweet-talking her and appearing as if he was going to get handsy with her. But at the mention of her name, he suddenly became a perfect gentleman. One thing was for certain – she was going to have to keep on her toes whenever he was around. And he would be around. Sans hadn’t given her a set date or time, but he’d bluntly told her he wanted to see her again. 

In one day, her life had become far more complicated than she’d ever imagined. Frisk decided not to even bother with dinner with the crazy night she’d had. Instead, she nabbed a cookie from the kitchen and stalked around the office, thinking about Sans. Her thoughts concerning him were a whirlwind of what ifs and it was starting to stress her out. What if he sent some goons to kidnap her while she was out in town? Or worse, what if they broke into the office while she was out and ambushed her when she returned? What if they showed up tonight? She dashed from window to window, making sure they were all locked and pulling down the drapes. After a few moments, she snuck a peek out of the closest window, expecting to see a hitman or gang of goons. The empty street was all that awaited her. 

Frisk shook her head to clear her thoughts and drew away from the window. Obsessing over what had happened with the skeleton mobster wasn’t going to do her any favors. The best thing to do would be to shove him out of her mind and get herself to bed. Upon finishing her cookie, she changed into her night clothes, washed the makeup from her face and brushed her teeth. She still smelled faintly of cigar smoke, but that could be washed away in the morning. Right now, all she wanted was to get a good night’s rest so that she could have a clear mind in the morning. Snuggling into bed, she heaved a deep sigh and told herself that Chara would be so proud of her for solving this mystery all by her lonesome.

“heya toots.” 

Frisk’s eyes snapped open instantly at the words, her gaze locking onto Sans before she could even form a coherent thought. He was still dressed in the same clothing that he’d been wearing at the MTT Resort, though his cigar was absent. The grin on his face was that of a man who was very pleased with himself. “couldn’t get ya outta my head, so i thought i’d give ya the buzz.” The tone his voice held was intimate and her mind flew into a frenzy right off the bat. He had looked her up already?! It wasn’t even _daylight_ yet! Here he was, casually sitting on the side of the bed, absently stroking her blanketed legs as his gaze burned into hers. 

Swallowing nervously, Frisk sat up in bed, holding the blanket to her chest to keep covered. It was more about being proper, as her powder blue bias cut nightgown modestly covered her down to her ankles. “Er, t-thank you for looking me up?” The girl questioned, trying to straighten out her messy hair a bit, “I would’ve preferred you to telephone first… um, so I could be… ready. I, um, how exactly did you get in here?” At this, Sans leaned towards her and tugged the blanket from her fingers, letting it fall to her lap quietly. His face was only inches away from hers, his eye sockets lidded with a palpable desire as he reached up to brush some hair out of her face. “howzabout you don’t worry ‘bout it? besides, it’s a crime to try and stay away from such a dish. especially one that’s water-proof.” 

Her face reddened when she remembered that being water-proof meant she had a face that didn’t need makeup, and even more so because of his proximity. Her adoptive mother would absolutely have _kittens_ if she knew that her darling daughter was in such an undignified situation with a man she’d met only hours before. And if she were to find out that he was part of the Magnolias? The horror! In fact, if news of having a grown man visit her in her bedroom ever went public it would be a scandal she’d never be able to live down. 

Such things were indecent, especially considering that Frisk had yet to enter the dating scene – where young adults would date many potential suitors so they’d appear more desirable. Ever since the stock market crash last year, the rules of human dating had become more absurd than ever. Desirable traits in men were to be well mannered, well dressed and own a car. Ladies were expected to have nice clothes, the ability to dance well and to be popular. Girls were also more desirable if they could resist the urge to go steady with a guy. Date more people to become popular, become popular to date more people until you eventually find your perfect fit. What a bunch of hooey. She didn’t have time for such frivolity! 

It didn’t seem as though Sans cared one whit for human dating etiquette either, considering how strongly he was coming onto her. A skeletal hand reached up to slide his bone fingers into her silky hair as he gently pulled her closer to him. He was clearly enjoying himself, if his facial expression was anything to go by. The white pupils floating in his darkened eye sockets tenderly swept over her facial features slowly, languidly, as if committing them to memory. His teeth were only a breath away from her lips and her heart started hammering away in her chest so loud that she could swear he heard it. Heat radiated from her cheeks as his gaze fell to her lips, slightly parted as if to try to speak, but no words of protest left her.

“Sans?” 

But they had reached the point of no return. He closed the distance between them, pressing his teeth flush against her mouth. Magic thrummed against her plump, sensitive lips, sending little waves of pleasure through her tender flesh. Frisk squeaked in surprise, but he held her captive, kissing her with fervor. She felt, rather than saw his tongue and for a second, she was surprised that he actually had one. It skimmed over her lips briefly before slipping unbidden between them and plunging into her mouth. A strange sensation to say the least, as Frisk was entirely unused to such an invasive feeling. Yet it wasn’t unpleasant, given the circumstances. It was wet and strong and swirled around her own tongue, small vibrations thrumming into her from the sensual caressing. 

His phalanges stroked her hair as he leaned her backwards into her nearly forgotten pillow, unwilling to surrender contact with her sweet mouth. Shifting onto his knees, his free hand moved to gently stroke her cheek. Keeping his touch feather light, Sans carefully grazed the very tips of his bony fingers from the edge of her jaw near her ear down the scoop of her neck towards her clavicle. A sudden, delicious shiver travelled up Frisk’s spine and she gasped into his mouth. _What WAS that?!_ Her mind demanded, the unfamiliar sensation registering all too clearly. 

A low chuckle was her only answer as the skeleton above her moved his hand gently across her collar bone, eliciting goosebumps to rise from her skin at the almost ghostly touch. Foreign as it was, it felt astonishingly good, pleasurable even. Her chest reflexively arched towards his boney fingers as her lips broke away from him, a small moan escaping them. His grin caught her eye as it widened in appreciation before moving to press those same teeth to the sensitive skin of her exposed neck. Frisk clamped her mouth shut, but drew in a ragged breath through her teeth, the air hissing erratically as she tried to calm her pounding heart and frazzled nerves.

Little tremors of magic reverberated into her neck, swirling and teasing the delicate flesh there. It was starting to become too much for her to handle. It was quickly reducing her to a panting mess and she wasn’t entirely sure what to do. One of her own hands reached up and stroked the exposed vertebrae of his neck, causing Sans to groan in satisfaction and move his teasing hand lower. The digits grazed her chest lightly before circling over her ribs in a delightful arc, then deliberately cupped her breast. Frisk cried out loudly in a mixture of surprise and ecstasy, both her hands clutching desperately at the navy pinstripe jacket he was wearing. She wasn’t sure if she was trying to push him away or pull him closer. 

It didn’t seem to matter, however, as Sans made the decision for her. He enthusiastically began to squeeze and knead her breast, drinking in the vision of her squirming and moaning amongst her sheets. Frisk tried to clear her mind and find something to focus on, something to keep her grounded in reality, but it seemed like a losing battle. Her nerves were practically buzzing with overstimulation, her mind feeling as if a fog was crowding out all rational thought and replacing it with raw need. The skeletal hand in her hair was trailing down to her unmolested breast and her fingers gripped the fabric of his jacket as she tried to tear her mind from what was happening. If only she could find something to drag her out of the lust filled haze Sans was responsible for. He was moving from her neck downwards… 

The sudden shrill ringing of her windup alarm clock jolted her into an upright sitting position, her spine ramrod straight at the unexpected loud trilling. Without sparing a glance at Sans, she turned towards the offending clock and snatched it from the bedside nightstand. Once she’d successfully silenced it, Frisk chanced a glance at the skeleton, only to find herself completely alone in the bed. _What…?_ Her chocolate brown eyes scanned the room, but there was no trace of him. She leapt from the bed and ran out of the bedroom, searching the bathroom, the kitchenette, the office, even Chara’s room, but the mobster was nowhere to be found. She balked at her empty surroundings. The door was locked, the windows were locked, the shades still drawn. Not even the smallest scrap of paper was out of place. 

Had it all been a dream?

It certainly didn’t feel like a dream. It had all felt so very, _very_ real. Real enough that she could still feel his touches dancing along her skin, the electrical buzzing along her nerves despite the fact Sans clearly wasn’t here. He couldn’t have been. The only rational explanation was that it had indeed been simply a dream, because there was no evidence that proved otherwise. Granted, Frisk had never had such lewd dreams before, but there was always a first time for everything. Perhaps she should chalk it up to the way he had pursued her last night. No one had ever looked at her with that unabashed desire be they man, monster, or otherwise. She shivered again, or perhaps she shook from anger, emotions were all sluiced together. He either didn’t know a thing about personal space and decency, or he simply didn’t care. Either way, she could not think clearly in the haze of the cities murky pre-dawn peaking through the dusty blinds. Frisk convinced herself the experience to be some sort of lucid dream, like that kid in the funnies stumbling through Slumberland. No she thought to herself, it was more like a dream where one keeps falling down a hole. Except instead of telling her to wake up, every instinct insisted her flesh hit the pavement. She could not explore this new and burgeoning anxiety now, she had more important things to think about. 

Like solving the mystery of her older brother’s disappearance. Finding Chara came first and foremost in her mind. It had to, else she might never see him again if gangsters were after him. Frisk grabbed some clean clothes and took them into the bathroom with her. With a twist of the knob, hot water started to fill the tub and she stripped off her nightgown and underwear, stepping in before it was halfway full. She’d feel much better once she was clean and ready to start breakfast. And maybe, hopefully, she could piece together enough information to get a new lead. Grabbing the bar of soap, Frisk made quick work of scrubbing her body, then shampooed and rinsed her hair. Within minutes she was clean and reaching for a soft towel.

Once she was dressed and properly groomed to greet potential clientele, the young Dreemurr put a pot of water to boil on the stove and padded out into the office area. The files Chara had stowed away in the filing cabinet’s locked drawer had criminal information that was normally off limits to her. Usually, Frisk wouldn’t even consider looking at them, but these were extraordinary circumstances. Her older brother would forgive her for her trespass later. Her eyes darted around the room, double checking to make sure she was indeed alone and seeing no others around, plucked the family picture from a nearby shelf. Taped to the back was a small copper colored key. She quickly removed it and slid it into the lock on the drawer. It released promptly and the drawer squealed somewhat loudly as it was pulled open. 

The sound grated on her nerves a bit, but she supposed that the noise was to alert her brother of anyone snooping through the important criminal records. She pulled out folder after folder, only pausing to dump some steel cut oats into the boiling water and set an egg timer for thirty minutes. Rushing back to the desk where she’d tossed the folders, she began thumbing through each one carefully when she noticed the picture of a man who looked strikingly familiar to the quick sketch she made last night. Pulling the notebook out to make comparisons, it was a confirmed match. 

Vincenzo Lombadi was the man’s name. Frisk supposed that sounded about right, he certainly looked like a traditional Italian gangster. Her eyes scanned the data on the papers carefully for any information that could be useful. Born to an immigrant family, dropped out of school after sixth grade to join a street gang, age twenty at the start of prohibition. That was not exactly relevant information to the issue, but she continued to read on nevertheless. Wanted for racketeering, extortion, assault, the smuggling of illegal substances… the list went on, but she was looking for something in particular. And there it was. 

“Part of the Calzotti Famiglia.” The words came out softly as she reached for her notebook once again, scribbling down the newfound information. The Calzotti Famiglia was made up entirely of Italian and Sicilian members, fiercely loyal to one another, but they refused to work with mobsters of different heritage and would often bump off any Mafioso of a different heritage. Frisk tapped the tip of her pencil against her bottom lip as she processed the information before her. Would a member of such a notably prejudiced mob make a deal with The Magnolias simply to obtain bottled magic to mix with alcohol? Maybe, but she highly doubted it ended there. No, it couldn’t be that easy. She closed the folder and wrote down the names and a quick description of each mafia family. 

Starting with the Calzotti Famiglia, she noted that they consisted of Italians and Sicilians and were unequivocally opposed to working with any gangster of a differing heritage. Next were the Dead Eyes, a mafia gang consisting almost completely of Irish lineage. Aside from bootlegging and some minor issues, they mostly kept themselves busy with unstable leadership and infighting. The Invisibles were another dangerous gang to watch for, but it was far harder to keep track of them as they consisted of a mixed heritage. Anyone could be one of them, from the guy working construction to the lady at the bookstore. Then there was The Salvation, an ironic name for a gang well known for brutally murdering people. It was another mixed gang but of the old world; inherently unleavened and followed the star. Finally, the Magnolias was the only mafia family made up completely of monsters. As far as she’d heard, they dealt mostly in bootlegging and racketeering, but were no strangers no kidnapping and making people disappear. 

According to the newspapers, the Dead Eyes were the first human gang formed in Ebott City and had controlled much of it for roughly a hundred years or so before competition immigrated from overseas. Their most prominent rivals were, and still are, the Calzotti Famiglia. The two gangs frequently clashed over territories and ‘jobs’, but their struggle for power soon included the Salvation. They, like the Dead Eyes, tired of the racism that the Calzotti showed them and thus they formed their own gang. The rags hadn’t even known of the Invisibles until recently, when a new member was arrested and let slip the name of his mob, rather than keeping up the guise of framing other mafias for their crimes. And it has been hypothesized that the Magnolias predate the Dead Eyes, but simply hadn’t bothered to crush them. It was unknown whether they didn’t consider them a threat or if they just wanted to coexist. 

The power struggle between the gangs was still going strong, with a distinct lack of trust amongst them, yet the Calzotti and the Magnolias were striking a deal. Were they forming an alliance to crush the rival gangs or was it something more complex than that? With so little evidence, it was hard to tell. Frisk slammed her hands down on the desk in frustration. To get more information, she was going to have to get close to either of those mafia families and that idea alone was enough to set her on edge. Her only current option was to get close to Sans and try to get some answers out of him. But would he talk? Would he even have any clues to Chara’s whereabouts or did he only know that Lombadi wanted him dead in a ditch? 

And just how was she supposed to get him to tell her what she needed to know without having him tearing her clothes off with his teeth? Chances were that if she approached the skeleton for help, she wouldn’t leave with her purity intact. It suddenly felt like a pit opened up in her stomach. Would she be able to give a dangerous mobster a night of passion if it meant saving her brother’s life? And a monster, on top of that. Would they even be _compatible_ when it came right down to the actual deed? What if she ended up not satisfying him, would she be safe? Who knew how dangerous the guy actually was? Would she do it? _Could_ she do it? Taking a measured breath, she shoved away the fear and doubt tugging at the back of her mind. She could do it, if it meant bringing Chara back safely.

If her mother ever found out, she’d be furious.

That only left one problem: how to contact Sans. He hadn’t exactly given her an address or phone number last night. No instructions on when or where to meet him, nothing. She didn’t have time to waste waiting around for him to send for her. The egg timer sounded from within the kitchenette and she grabbed the rest of the folders, filing them away and locking the drawer before heading towards the stove. She served herself a hot bowl of oatmeal with a pat of butter and salt, taking care not to burn her tongue in case she had any unexpected visitors. Frisk ate until her stomach was full, making certain to have a glass of milk and an orange with her oatmeal. She kept her gaze locked on the door the entire time she ate, but her breakfast went uninterrupted. It wasn’t until she’d finished cleaning up and putting the leftovers in the refrigerator that she’d heard it.

A sudden, loud knock at the office door startled her and immediately put her on edge. Frisk poked her head out of the kitchenette, looking towards the locked entryway. There was a shadow on the frosted surface, obscuring the letters printed on the glass. It was the shadow of someone approximately her own height and they raised a fist and once again firmly knocked. Her heart jumped up into her throat at the prospect of having Sans show up so quickly, despite the urgent need to get things in motion. She had only just decided to do whatever she needed to do to pump him for information. Now that it looked like she would have the opportunity, Frisk felt like hiding in bed with her sheets pulled up over her head. The knock sounded again, a little impatiently, and she edged over to the door. Her hand trembled as she unlocked the door and gripped the handle. It was now or never. She turned the knob, swung the door open to find – 

“hOI! I’m TEMMIE!!”

Frisk very nearly jumped out of her skin when she was cheerfully greeted by her usual paper delivery monster. Slumping against the door jamb in relief and embarrassment, she felt all the adrenaline leave her system and tried to compose herself. Temmie gave her a look of concern as she clutched a rolled-up newspaper in her fluffy hands. “Oh, hi Temmie.” Frisk offered, flashing her a smile, “Sorry, I had a bit on my mind and you spooked me a little.” She pulled a couple pennies out of her pocket and handed it to the girl, earning the string-wrapped newspaper for the coin. Temmie smiled and winked at her with such fervor that Frisk thought her face might fall off, “Aww, Frisk! Soooo CUTE!!!” She bounced in excitement so quickly that she practically vibrated intensely. 

“Thanks, Temmie. By the way, your speech classes are really paying off. You sound great!” Frisk noted, making sure not to get too involved in conversing with the monster girl. After all, she was on a schedule and couldn’t spend too much time at each stop, lest her pay get docked. “Thanks Frisk! Temmie tries hard, learn much. Teach other Tem!” Her charcoal colored eyes sparkled with excitement before she caught a glimpse of a wall-mounted clock, “Oh noes! Gotta go! bOI!” She energetically flailed both arms in a gesture of farewell and tore off down the street like she was on a mission.

Frisk simply chuckled to herself, shaking her head and heading back into the office. Nonchalantly, she removed the string binding from the newspaper and unrolled it, ready to check for anything of interest. An envelope, bent from being rolled into the newspaper slipped out and fell on the floor. “Huh?” She dipped down and grabbed it, inspecting it closely. Her name was neatly written on the front of the otherwise unmarked envelope and she tossed the newspaper on the desk, opting to open the envelope first. She pulled a neatly folded piece of paper from within, the crisp sheet containing what seemed to be an address and detailed instructions. But it wasn’t from Sans.


	3. I Spy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My husband co-authored this chapter! We hope you enjoy it. :)

### Chapter Three: I Spy

Her chocolate colored eyes locked on the paper that rested on the desk. There, painstakingly written on the crisp white sheet were what appeared to be instructions and an address. The whole message was short, to the point, and most importantly, consisting almost entirely of what appeared to be random letters. To anyone else it would be nothing but gibberish, but Frisk knew better. This wasn’t senseless babble, but a secure and ingenious way of sending a message for her eyes only. Cryptography was something she had practiced for hours at a time, every day since she was a child. At first, it was simply a way to have fun and do brain teasers when nothing exciting was happening, then she used it as a means to communicate with her brother in a secret way. It was especially handy when they were trying to figure out an appropriate gift for their mother without ruining the surprise. Only one person aside from herself could have possibly written this and sent it to her. _Chara…_

Moi saiiocoki ca I 42ag Km. Iqmom ey 

mcaqmom. Qiiw qyecimaam. Gca'm 

mim eaomom. Q yqkk wco, ci kaki.

This… this was probably going to take her a while. Grabbing a pencil and paper, Frisk plopped herself down in the seat, filled with determination. She could solve this puzzle! She tried some of the simpler types of ciphers first, such as ROT13, where the first and second halves of the alphabet were swapped. A was equal to N and vice versa. Nope, that was too easy. Perhaps Chara had used the Skip method and wanted her to count a certain number of characters. And so she tried it, but that didn’t make any sense either. Time ticked along with each method she tried, never slowing, never stopping. This message wasn’t using a grid, didn’t use a rotational approach, wasn’t mostly comprised of numbers and wasn’t using substitution. She chewed on the end of her pencil, thinking hard on the puzzle. It had been far more challenging than she’d thought, but that was hardly a surprise.

If Chara was sending her a ciphered message, it had to be important and most likely urgent. Glancing at the clock on the shelf, she was surprised to find it was already lunchtime. But this was no time to sit around and stuff her face. The cipher wasn’t going to solve itself. Frisk pondered over it for a little while longer and came to the sudden realization that it must be in the style of a One-Time Pad, uncrackable to all except the one who had the key. But where was the key? Grabbing the envelope, she looked inside and found absolutely nothing. She looked through the newspaper, but there were no other papers and nothing was marked or circled. Rats! She considered stomping in frustration when she could find no key, but that wasn’t going to help her with anything. She needed to keep her head clear.

Maybe she should take a break and get something to eat after all. Pushing away from the desk, she stalked into the kitchenette and started making herself a sandwich. She paced throughout the office as she ate, mentally listing off all the places he could have hidden the key. But at the same time, Chara couldn’t have possibly known that he would be lying dormy somewhere while his little sister searched for him. He must feel like a real jerk right about now. Frisk contemplated searching the room for a moment or two, but just then, something caught her eye. It was the way the light from the window was shining on the paper. Barely noticeable, but nonetheless it been staring at her in the face the entire time. 

Shoving the last bit of sandwich into her mouth, she lunged forward and snatched her pencil from the desk, hurrying over to the paper. Tilting the side of the sharpened point against the paper, she rubbed the side against the paper, shading carefully. After a few minutes, she was finished, the fruits of her labor before her. The indentations on the paper had suggested – and proved – that Chara had written the key on a separate piece of paper, but had done it atop the puzzle sheet. “Very clever, dear brother.” Frisk mused, a small grin curving her lips as she set to work decoding the message. It took a paltry few minutes once she had the key.

_The warehouse on E 42nd St. Eight pm tonight._

Very important. Don't get caught.

I miss you, be safe.

A mixture of emotions swelled within her chest as she read and reread the message. Relief that her brother was alive and well, was the most prevalent. It was if an invisible weight had been lifted from her shoulders and she felt a little lighter for it. At the same time, her concern made itself known. Chara may have been able to send her a secret message, but he was still in danger and knew that he was going to need help. She couldn’t help but feel a bit of pride warm her at his obvious trust in her intelligence and his unspoken confession that he would need her to stick her neck out for him. Anxiety, however, saw fit to damper her spirit a bit. Tonight’s task was clearly going to be something dangerous, considering the involvement of at least two mafias and the fact they were hot on Chara’s tail. A small sliver of doubt ran up her spine, but she quickly stomped it down. She had escaped the clutches of an entirely too friendly mobster last night with her skin intact and scrammed out of there with nary an incident. 

She could do this.

Walking over to a pull-string in front of the wall with the corkboard on it, she grabbed the string and tugged it downwards, revealing a large map of Ebott City. It wasn’t as if the map was new, quite the opposite, as it had several points of interest marked in different colored pencil and important streets were circled in ink. Studying the map carefully, Frisk saw the quickest and most effective route to the warehouse on East 42nd street. The wired streetcar passed through that area regularly until about ten thirty each night. If she hurried, she could catch the next ride! Acting quickly, the girl bent over and shoved her short hair up under her newsboy cap, flipping up the collar on her shirt, clasping on an old pair of men’s suspenders and tossing on a gray overcoat. She slipped the small notebook and pencil into the inner breast pocket and a pair of binoculars into the right pocket. There, with a bit of dirt she’d look just like a street urchin. Perfect – she definitely wouldn’t stand out now.

A brief glimpse at the clock motivated her to get a move on and she grabbed some sugar cookies, before locking the office and heading out into town. Shoving the cookies into her left coat pocket, Frisk scanned the streets as she made her way down the block. When she reached the corner, she leaned against the side of a building in a boyish way. Not too far down the street was an organ grinder, dressed in somewhat shabby plainclothes as he leaned his street organ on its long cylinder and turned the crank. A lovely melody drifted through the air as the lever cycled around and around, the pinned barrel inside striking the notes as it rotated with each turn. Cherubic notes fluttered through the air, a small crowd of passersby stopped to enjoy the tune. Those saints among them who stayed for a song or two, reached into their pockets and poured a bit of their own salt into the sorry hat of the old busker. Others, bottle aching bell bottoms and bluenosed book bearers included, found it preferable to share an uncomfortable level of shame with one another than to part with any sort of patronage. Greed was greed Frisk noted. Whether it was hoarding by rats or hoarding by kings, it had a habit of making an animal out of everyone. Often she could not help but take a hard turn down that mental alleyway, but did her best not to judge the lot too harshly. Frisk knew people weren’t made of money after all, ignoring the fact that even if everyone was a baker they would still all need dough to live. 

Out of the corner of her eye, Frisk spotted the streetcar coming up to where she’d been waiting with her back against the building. Pushing against the side of the building, she started crossing the sidewalk and heading into the road as it was passing her, jogging a little and hopping onto the back bumper, where a few other dirty looking urchins had hitched a ride. She held on tight, making a little chin music with the young boys as the cable car traveled along through the streets. Naturally when one of the lads offered her a stick of gum, she accepted it right away, shoving it in her mouth and savoring it as if she hadn’t had any in weeks. Chewing gum was best this way, no cash exchanged. While she kept her mouth in a goofy grin and squinted her eyes to maintain her disguise she knew that not a single one of the goofs flanking her was a fool to her ruse. All the bimbos and big timers would automatically accept her as a teenage boy, and the grime she’d rubbed on her skin made indistinguishable from any ordinary street rat. The kids knew better. Even if she was a chunk of lead, she was their chunk of lead. They never once snitched on her, why ruin a good joke by blurting the punch line? 

The trolley didn’t move exceedingly fast, but it sure beat calling a cab or walking several miles to take the railway. By the time the streetcar reached the eastern section of Ebott City, the other boys had all hopped off one by one at their individual destinations. Frisk watched the passing buildings closely, making sure to keep careful watch of the street names as the signs came into her view. When the sign for 42nd Street finally showed, she let go and hopped off the bumper and skittered to a shaky stop. Jumping onto and off of a moving vehicle wasn’t easy – or safe – but thankfully the trolley had been in mid-turn both times and slowed significantly. A quick glance around herself to be certain that she didn’t look too suspicious and she was darting out of the road and strolling as casually as possible in the general direction of the warehouse.

The warehouse itself had been a part of Ebott City for far longer than she had been alive and it certainly showed its age. Large, old and yet not quite decrepit, this place used to be a good place of employment for the nearby residents. It was a huge, blocky and unremarkable building, about three stories high and the front doors had heavy chains with locks draped across them. It looked as if she was going to have to find another way to infiltrate this place. There! An open window on the second floor caught her attention and a smile crossed her face. There was a ledge close to a fire escape nearby, if she could only get to the ladder. It was too high for her to reach from the ground, but luckily for her there was a dumpster nearby, and she decided that it was her ticket inside. It was mostly full, heavy and hard to move, but she had to had to hurry. There wasn’t much time. She pushed and shoved with all her might, putting all her meager weight into her. Slowly but surely, the partially rusted wheels squealed as it inched along until it was finally close enough.

Wasting no time, she hopped onto the dumpster, then climbed up the ladder. _Isn’t this the old packaging warehouse that was shut down when some men were killed in an accident last August?_ Frisk wondered to herself, slipping inside through the open window. The inside of the warehouse was dark and empty, and it took a minute or two for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. It was completely silent. Since she was currently the only occupant, she decided to explore a little bit. The floor she was standing on was more of a walkway littered with boxes and crates that overlooked the floor below. If this place had still been in business, most of the work would be taken care of on the first floor. Across from her position was an enclosed area that most likely once belonged to a supervisor, though it looked as if it hadn’t been used it quite a while. She made her way over and tried the handle, but it was locked. 

Her stomach gurgled a little and she reached for a sugar cookie, nibbling away at it as she explored the abandoned building. The ceiling was raised high enough so as not to interfere with any of the machinery, but it also made Frisk’s footsteps more audible. Everything echoed; dripping pipes, the chattering of rats, all the ancient metal bowel movements of this beached industrial whale. She made a mental note to move as little as possible while snooping. If she were to be caught here, then Chara certainly had no hope. Wandering down the stairs, she noticed that the crates down here were recent, as if they had just arrived earlier that day. There was something fishy going on here. Quirking a brow, she made her way over to the crates, leaving the safety of the stairway behind. They were clearly out of place and she wanted a closer look. 

Upon inspection, they seemed to be stacks upon stacks of fruit crates. She frowned to herself and pulled out another cookie, biting into it as she looked for a latch that would let her open one of the wooden containers without breaking into it. No such luck. They would need to be opened with a crowbar and she wasn’t about to leave evidence that she was there. After eating the second cookie, she froze. Something had moved out of the corner of her peripheral vision, dashed along a pipe before she could see exactly what it was.

 _What was that?_ Another sudden movement caught her attention and her head snapped to face it, catching a glimpse of it. It was just a rat… a very large, mangy looking rat, but a rat nonetheless. Another rat scurried towards her to snatch up the cookie crumbs that had fallen at her feet and she stumbled away from it. As her eyes grew wide, her breath caught and in that moment, she realized the place had a large infestation.

Before she could cringe away or explore further, the distinct rattling of chains met her ears and she made a mad dash for the stairs. But it was no good. She’d never make it in time with how far she’d wandered from the stairs. They were going to catch her if she didn’t make herself scarce! Thinking fast, she dove behind a stack of crates that was only a couple yards from the stairs just as the entryway swung open. Shoving the sleeve of her jacket into her mouth to muffle her panicked breathing, Frisk stayed as quiet as possible. That was far too close for comfort. Suddenly, all the lights in the warehouse that still worked flickered on and her heart felt as if it were sinking into her stomach. 

Despite her hiding place behind the large wooden containers being safely concealed within the shadows, the stairs were completely illuminated. If she were to try to sneak up those stairs and escape through the window, they’d undoubtedly see her and it’d be curtains for her. End of the line. Inwardly she cursed their wretched timing and her decision to explore the lower floor. She should have stayed put on the second floor, behind the crates, where she’d have been much safer! What was she going to do if they happened to catch her? Cry and beg for mercy from hard boiled gangsters? They’d probably fill her full of hot lead before she could make up a valid reason for being in the wrong place, at the wrong time. She could reveal herself as female, but then they might fill her with something else… or they might just kill her anyway.

Luckily, they had yet to notice her.

Frisk hesitantly peaked her head around the edge of a crate to find there were five human men in expensive suits, ranging from tan, to light gray, to charcoal. They were conversing amongst themselves, their voices low, but not whispering. She couldn’t quite make out what they were saying at first. As they drew closer, however, it was much easier to discern. The men were talking about their latest heist and the apparent genius work they had done, smuggling these very crates across state borders without getting picked up by the feds. One of the men suddenly turned towards her hiding place, but Frisk was quick to duck her head behind the wooden box before his gaze could fall on her. A cold chill ran up her spine. That had been too close for comfort.

“All right you dopes, close yer heads and pipe this.” The man in the charcoal suit and white hat spoke up, “We made a clean sneak outta that arms warehouse across the state line and no one’s the wiser, but don’t get cocky. This is just the beginnin’.” He strolled towards one of the men in light gray, reaching for a crowbar the guy had. He was a big palooka, built like a gorilla, with a face to match. Apparently, he wasn’t too much smarter than one, as it took him a few moments to realize he needed to hand the boss man his crowbar. With the tool in hand, the man in the white hat shoved it between two nailed together boards and pried them apart, opening up one of the crates. Slipping the binoculars out of her pocket, she chanced a look in their direction to see the man pull out what was unmistakably an automatic weapon. A Thompson submachine gun, caliber .45 to be precise – also known as “The Annihilator”, a “Chicago Typewriter” or, most commonly, a Tommy gun.

A feeling of dread sank into her stomach, the feeling akin to swallowing a lead ball.

Frisk was _really_ starting to wish that she’d stayed up near the window on the second floor. Or, better yet, that she had never come out here at all. She wished that she was home with Chara and their mother, eating delicious cinnamon-butterscotch pie and talking about snails. But she persevered instead and kept hidden, watching the men listen to their boss. As he went over the details and functions of their ill-gotten goods, Frisk took a peep at the rest of the goons with him. The two men in tan looked like a couple of roscoes if she’d ever seen them; tall, dark and trigger happy. Their faces, when she managed to catch the slightest glance, were sharp, angular and rigid. _Fantastic._ She thought sarcastically to herself with a frown, _And here I was worried about it being too dull. Oh, perhaps I should have worn a pair of tap shoes, just to liven things up even more!_

All facetiousness aside, this was a huge problem. Pistols and revolvers were bad enough, but this? Taking it upon themselves to smuggle in crates of submachine guns, when this place was chaotic enough already? As if Ebott City didn’t have enough problems! She started edging her way backwards slowly towards the stairs, taking care to remain in the shadows. “And with these little beauties, we could have everything we ever wanted. Money, dames, we’ll **own** this city!” The boss man exclaimed, raw passion burning in his eyes. Ripples of excitement coursed through his lackeys as he displayed the gun he’d removed from inside the crate. “And they squirt metal like no one’s business. You could write your name with them just like a typewriter.” He continued as their attention was focused on the gun in his hands, “They’re light too – you can hold ‘em just like a baby.”

Opportunity doesn’t always come knocking when it’s most needed, sometimes it’s like a pie in a window – you just have to take it. As their attention was focused on the man holding the submachine gun, Frisk tiptoed as quickly and quietly as possible up the steps, keeping an eye on the group of cutthroats. Luck seemed to be on her side as she made it to the second floor without incident and was able to take cover behind another large nearby crate. Her nerves were a bit less frazzled now, despite her hands trembling with anticipation. She had been almost certain that the men would have seen her. Somehow, by nothing short of a miracle, they hadn’t. She had done it, she had ghosted up the stairs without so much as a peep. Now, if only she could sneak over to the fire escape she’d entered through, she’d breeze it back to the office. Her chocolate colored gaze eyed the open window ruefully. It was a long ways away from the safety of her current hiding place and the second floor, suspended above the ground floor, was completely illuminated. The metal grating that made up the floor tended to echo every footstep she’d made earlier too, so she was going to have one heck of a time getting out of this.

 _Nuts! I need to get out of here before I get rubbed out._ She thought to herself, gaze shifting between the group of mobsters below her and her escape route. The boss man was showing his cronies how to reload the shells in the gun, they were distracted… Maybe if she was quick, she could make a break for it. Ready to book it, her foot slid backwards and right into an aluminum bucket filled with nuts and bolts that just so happened to be nearby. Not only did it crash loudly against the metal flooring, the entire warehouse echoing the sudden racket, its contents spilled out all over the flooring. “Shit!” Frisk bit out before she could stop herself and chanced a look down to the surprised gangsters. Sure enough, she’d certainly gotten their attention. They were looking straight at her with murder in their eyes.

“Get that kid!!” The boss man yelled, snapping her out of her shock. The roscoes reached for their guns, but the man in the white hat snapped out, “No lead! We don’t want any coppers turnin’ up!” Frisk tore off towards the office, her closest refuge, in a blind panic. Adrenaline coursed through her veins like electricity with each step. It was locked of course, so as she ran she threw her entire weight against the door, shoulder first. Having hit the sweet spot, the door burst open and she tumbled inside. Quickly getting to her feet, she scrambled to shut the door and dive into hiding beneath what was probably a wooden desk.

Complete, utter darkness filled the abandoned office and she sucked in shakily controlled breaths to steady her terrified breathing. For some unfathomable reason, she swore she wasn’t quite alone in here. Straining her ears, she couldn’t quite make out what it was. It was as if the room held a presence, as if it was breathing. She shuddered as something warm brushed against her. Her eyes started adjusting to the darkness as the sounds of slow, menacing footsteps ascending the stairs echoed outside the office. She drew in a breath and squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, desperately trying to keep a cool head. As she opened them, she saw them. Countless eyes glistening in the window’s meager light as they all watched her closely, their noses twitching as they picked up the faint smell of the remaining two cookies in her pocket. 

Gadzooks, they had to be two feet long! 

She could hear the footsteps coming closer to the office. “Come out little fella,” A voice called from the other side of the door, “We just wanna talk to ya.” They sounded like they were getting ready to give her an unpleasant surprise – as if her position wasn’t unpleasant enough! The huge brown rats practically filled every orifice in the old office and they were all staring at her as if transfixed by a spell. She slowly slid her hand into her pocket and pulled out the sugar cookies; their beady little eyes were watching her every move diligently. Fishing the wad of chewed up gum from her mouth, she placed it between the two soft cookies and crushed them together, smashing them into the warm gum until it was nothing but a huge ball of sugary goo. Their eyes glittered in hunger as she clutched the misshapen mass. The knob turned, the door swung open and one of the grey suited men walked inside.

Without warning, she flung it at him as hard as she could. Her aim was true; it nailed him right in the face, the saccharide missile splattering against the skin. Glutinous, taffy-like, the agglomeration congealed viscously to every dirty pore and unlucky hair in the thugs five o’clock shadow. Fate could not deal the poor schmuck a worse hand of cards than the ace Frisk pulled out of her left coat pocket. Confusion folded to rage, rage raised the stakes, and then blood curdling fear called its bluff as a hundred flea-bitten rodents of unsettling size rose as if in a great wave and consumed the man in a torrent of fur and unbridled feral appetency. 

He struggled to scream as the rats descended upon him, but the gooey mass covered his nose and mouth, muffling his cries of terror. He staggered backward into his cohorts, a swarming amalgamation of man and writhing vermin, and as he did, Frisk seized that moment to act. Snatching up the desk chair, she launched it through the glass of the lone window, sending shards of broken glass spewing outwards like a fountain of glittering edges. Chancing a glance backwards, the flailing goon had been overtaken, but the rest of the brunos were tripping over themselves and the rats to get into the office and grab her. She climbed onto the window ledge, shoving away the leftover glass pieces with her shoes. That’s when she noticed the lack of a fire escape. There was, however, an open dumpster down there. It was a gamble: either she jumped and hoped for a miracle or stayed to get shivved. She made her decision, bracing her shoes against the window sill, bunching the muscles in her legs, she vaulted out as far as she could. 

It was almost as if everything were happening in slow motion.

Down, down, down, from the second story window.

Towards the overflowing, open dumpster.

Praying she survived.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What lies in store for our determined heroine? Tune in next week for the next installment of Deadly Entanglements!


	4. Playing With Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for this chapter being several hours late. I had less time for research and writing and got a little carried away with length in comparison to the previous three chapters.

### Chapter Four: Playing With Fire 

There are few experiences that cannot help but to force one to take a step back and put their life into perspective. These can be joyous occasions; a first kiss, earning a diploma, becoming a parent. Other times it comes from getting a real bad roll of the dice; terminal illness, disgrace, bankruptcy. Leaping out of a second story window though? That forces one so far back, so suddenly, it may as well be an out of body experience. Frisk considered these thoughts as she lay with her back flat on the grimy cement of the alleyway. Rationally she knew it had been just seconds, but already the entire episode felt like it was stretching to eternity. Like part of her was still falling and she was waiting for it to reunite with her corporeal body. “...g-groan... ”, suddenly everything hurt, pure agony serving as a herald for her complete consciousness. In reality she was as lucky as anyone who made a habit of jumping out of windows could be. She somehow managed to plummet butt-first into a dumpster overflowing with bags of garbage, knocking the entire thing over before the crap game of fate had finally let her roll snake eyes up. The fall itself was bad enough, but the uncertainty of her survival had been nothing less than terrifying. She mustered all the strength she had to stand and at first only ended up splayed across the paved alleyway with her cheek to the ground and said buttocks in the air, but at least she was **alive**! Shakily getting to her feet, an angry shout alerted her that the gangsters realized she was still alive. She saw one of the goons silhouetted against the light of the window above her. Quickly he pulled his head back through. With some of her determination restored Frisk quickly decided that feeling pain was better than feeling nothing and vacated the premises in a brisk hobble.

Though her limbs were trembling with fear, adrenaline was pumping through her with each stride as she ran directly into the road. A car horn blasted through the air and she scrambled backward, narrowly avoiding a gruesome and untimely end. Fortunately for her, though, her hand shot out as the car passed and grabbed onto the top of the rear-mounted tire. She jumped instantly, pulling herself onto the back of the speeding vehicle and held on for dear life. It was nothing like riding on the back of the slower streetcar earlier. No, whoever was driving this vehicle was in a hurry to get somewhere and fast. Frisk wasn’t one to complain, however, if it meant putting some distance between her and a bunch of furious hatchet men.

Her hold was clearly not the most stable on the car as it seemed to lack a proper back bumper to place her feet on, but she clung to the tire anyway, scrabbling to keep the lower half of her body from dragging along the pavement. Pulling herself into a mock fetal position kept her legs and feet from being ground into hamburger meat, and she was glad that she was so small and light. Frisk held on as tightly and stubbornly as she could, noting the make and model of the car was a Ford model A Tudor Sedan, brand new and still a glossy navy color. She couldn’t see the driver from her position, but as the street names whizzed by, she realized they were headed into monster territory. On the plus side, at least those gangsters were far enough behind that she could consider herself somewhat safe.

The sudden sound of screeching tires in the distance told her otherwise.

 _Why me?_ The girl wondered, scrunching her face up in frustration. Her palms were starting to sweat in nervous anticipation as she chanced a look behind her makeshift getaway car to find, to her horror, a shiny black Cadillac coming up at an alarming speed. She didn’t need to see the men inside to know those goons were hot on her heels. The man in the passenger seat was rolling down his window to lean his upper half out of it, revolver in his hand. Obviously, they didn’t want news to spread that there were submachine guns in town before they could distribute them to their men. Regular firearms? Those were apparently no problem. The man aimed the gun directly at her, grinned maliciously and squeezed the trigger.

The driver of the Model A swore loudly and jerked the wheel to the side, half a second before the shot sounded. The navy blue car pitched wildly to the right as the bullet narrowly missed her, dinging the side of the new car and chipping some paint from it. She kept her fingers locked with one hand as she held onto her hat with the other, now hanging sideways as the pavement below rushed by only about a foot or less from her shoulder. Her coat was flapping wildly in the rush of air and the headlights from the encroaching vehicle bathed her in a bright light as she held on for dear life. She reached for the mud guard over the wheel with a foot, but the lack of traction nearly caused her to lose her grip entirely. Like it or not, Frisk was a sitting duck. He fired once more and the car swerved a second time, the bullet nearly hitting one of the back tires this time. 

She was sweating now, her palms damp with perspiration and making it harder to keep her grip on the tire. There was no telling how much longer she’d be able to hold on, let alone avoid the bullets. She swallowed hard, her muscles straining from the exertion that she was unused to. If by some miracle she lived through this, she’d be plenty sore tomorrow. Another bullet was fired at her and she jerked her head away, the road now mere inches from grinding away her skull as the shot sunk into the back of the car. The driver’s vivid cursing barely registered in her head as she saw the hitman carefully lining up another shot, this one pointed not at her head, but at the hand that still clung to the spokes of the spare rear-mounted tire. Her blood ran cold at the realization that if she let go or lost her grip, she’d not only have her face torn away and skull shattered on the street, the Cadillac would also run her over and crush her to death. A twisted smile crossed his face, his finger was slowly squeezing the trigger…

And suddenly the Ford took a hard left down a side street.

The unexpected turn of the vehicle, along with her sweaty grip flung Frisk in the opposite direction, and she briefly shrieked in surprise. Tucking her head to her chest, she raised her arms to protect herself as she somersaulted out of the road, out of the immediate danger of being run over. Her arms and legs felt like jelly as she came to a stop, the Cadillac having flown right by her as it had been speeding during the chase. The girl forced her limbs to move, crawling into the nearby parking lot as fast as she could manage and prayed to whatever god would listen that she could escape those gangsters. The sound of screeching tires gave her enough motivation to scramble to her feet and rush through the back door of the nearest building.

She found herself standing in the kitchen of a restaurant, the sounds of sizzling burgers coming from the nearby stove as what appeared to be a fire elemental stared at her in surprise, halfway through cooking some meat patties. There was a long pause, with only frying to accompany the silence. “I-I… I’m sorry,” Frisk panted, desperately trying to catch her breath, “Please...” The fry cook flared slightly, “PLEASE!?! I thought you up an' quit last week!?” Frisk, stupefied, stood slack jawed in the doorway and ineffectually continued to stammer, “I-I... I'm sorry...” Bracing its burning appendages near the lumbar region and arching its back a chorus of crackling coals accompanied his following statement, “...no. No hard feelings, I apologize. I may have been a bit _**racially insensitive**_ , honestly I'm really surprised to see you again after what I said. I was wrong. _**Not all humans look alike.**_ Ach! My back is killin' me. I don't deserve it, but can you show me some mercy an' help out ole Grillby tonight?” The sheer absurdity of the penitent elemental forced Frisk to return to the reality of her current conundrum. She gulped air into her lungs, “G-Gangsters...” He interrupted again, “Only the usual lot, but I have not had a lick o'rest all day, c'mon please?” Her legs threatened to collapse and she removed her newsboy cap, letting her hair spill out as she wiped away the sweat from her forehead. Taking this as an affirmation the monster grabbed a waitress uniform and pushed it into her arms. Brightening up, literally, Grillby winked and muttered in her ear, “...I even laundered it for ya, shine yourself up and change in the washroom, thanks again!” He all but shoved her towards a back room before rushing out towards the main restaurant. 

Finding a sink, she ran some warm water and scrubbed the dirt from her face quickly, not wasting any time. The fire elemental had inadvertently helped her without question, so the least she could do was hurry. Throwing off the boyish disguise, she changed into the crisp white shirt, black vest and black skirt in record time. Combing her fingers through her fluffy hair to straighten it as best she could, she composed herself and checked her reflection in the mirror. Aside from the embroidered name on the uniform reading as, “Steve”, she convinced herself that she looked like a believable waitress. Frisk could not afford to bear much resemblance to the street urchin boy that was foolish enough to play rabbit for a bunch boot legging greyhounds with tommy guns, she stepped back into the clean kitchen. Grillby had just returned to serve the burgers he had been cooking, along with some hot golden fries. Placing three burger and fry combos on one tray and two on another, he handed her the trays and informed her to give them to the Dog Squad, whilst he arranged another burger and fry combo on another tray for her return trip to the kitchen.

Taking a deep breath, she balanced each tray on a hand and walked out of the kitchen and into the main restaurant. Make that _bar_ and restaurant. Frisk wasn’t sure how to feel about being here, but Grillby had given her an opportunity. Never mind that the apology was meant for someone else, serendipity bid her to accept his atonement. He was sticking his neck out for her, even if he did not realize it, so in return she’d pass that kindness forward and keep her mouth shut about there being a little gin behind the counter. It didn’t take long to realize who he had meant by the Dog Squad. They were all crowded around a table playing poker as they patiently waited for their food. There was a huge white dog in nothing but red pants and suspenders with a handlebar moustache, next to a small white dog in what appeared to be the same outfit, only with an added shirt and a black bowler hat. On one side of the pair was what appeared to be a border collie in a rumpled, half buttoned shirt and vest, with charcoal colored pants. A smoking dog treat hung from his mouth and his eyes shifted back and forth over the room. Frisk set one of the trays down and served them their meals, then turned to the loving couple on the other side of the large dog. These two dogs seemed to be a married couple and were dressed to the nines, their matching outfits complimenting their white fur beautifully. She served them promptly as well, gave the whole table a sweet smile before she gathered the trays.

As she turned to head back into the kitchen, she happened to glance out the large front window of the bar. What she saw froze her to the spot. The Cadillac was parked outside and the goons were trying to search the area as inconspicuously as possible. She suddenly felt rooted to the spot as those goons searched around the outside of the building, looking for any trace of the ‘boy’ that had escaped them. Turning, she retreated back into the kitchen only to be met with Grillby holding a tray out to her, a single burger and fry combo on it, but it was accompanied by a glass bottle of ketchup. “Give this to the fella seated by his lonesome at the counter. You know who I am talking about, the real regular weirdo, here all the time, and I’m sure he’d be just beside himself to see you again.” He moved past her so that he could attend to other business muttering, “Oh and let him know this one is on the house. He bet me twenty bucks you'd be back when I told him you were gone for good, jokes on me I guess.”

Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself. She needed to behave as believably as possible, she looked the part but this schmuck could ruin the entire setup. Her disguise filled her with determination. She could do this! Righting herself, she took the tray out into the restaurant and kept close to the bar. There, at the end of the bar, the ‘regular’ sat by himself on the last stool. He was dressed in a black pinstripe suit with an admiral blue vest and black tie. His dress shirt was a light blue and his fedora matched his suit, down to the admiral blue band wrapped around it. If it hadn’t been clear that this was a Magnolia hangout when she’d served the Dog Squad, it certainly was now. Why were there mobsters everywhere she went lately? She pushed the concern out of her mind. The Magnolias weren’t the ones after her, so there was no point in worrying about them now. When she was finally next to him, she set down the food first, then was about to set the bottle in front of him when he turned towards her.

”heya toots.”

Frisk balked at him, nearly dropping the bottle of ketchup, unable to believe her eyes. Sitting there on the barstool, letting his eyes roam up and down her entire being was none other than Sans. His grin widened. Not only did he recognize her immediately, he took in the cute waitress outfit she was wearing, the white pinpricks of his eyes not missing the embroidered name. “been a while, _steve_ , you’ve changed!” the skeleton chuckled quietly so that only she could hear, “whatsa matter dollface, you get lonely without me?” Heat rushed to her face in pure embarrassment and she bit out a quiet, but still sharp, “no! I was… trying out a new job.” The look on his face told her he knew she was lying and he reached for the bottle of ketchup, taking it nonchalantly from her hand. His grin didn’t falter, but he looked her dead in the eyes and firmly said, “try again sweetheart.”

Inwardly cursing herself for such an idiotic excuse, she struggled to come up with something that wouldn’t get on the wrong side of everyone in the joint. Her eyes glanced towards the front window subconsciously. Apparently, the gangsters outside had searched the outer perimeter for her and had come up empty handed. She could see them looking through the windows of nearby businesses with murderous intent on their faces. “hey, what’s wrong? you’re shakin’ like a leaf.” Frisk heard him say and she whipped her attention back to find him looking genuinely concerned, “c’mon, don’t be a bluenose, baby. why don’t ya tell your good pal sans the problem? put a little trust in me and i’ll show ya i can play nice.” And then he winked at her, as if he were just an everyday joe being a gentleman.

Frisk bit her lip, her mind racing. What should she do? She couldn’t lie to him in her current situation, she’d get busted again and who knew how much patience the skeleton actually had? Sure, he was acting like a nice guy now, but that could always be a ruse. He could be trying to get on her good side so that he could use her later, but what could he possibly gain from that? Chara was the detective and had the connection to the law, not her! Or she could keep her yap buttoned and chance him ratting her out to the bloodthirsty button men outside. No matter what choice she made, she was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Time to make a decision and hope for the best outcome. She _really_ hoped she wasn’t going to regret this…

”Those goons outside are after me for peeping their new shipment.” She managed to tell him, right before the door burst open. The entirety of Grillby’s went deadly silent as four of the five men walked in, hands near their guns as their eyes scanned the place for the punk they’d been after. All eyes were on the intruders and the human men fanned out to search. The man in the white hat cleared his throat and started to speak, “Evenin’, folks. Sorry for the interruption, but we was lookin’ for a scummy little brat that gave us the slip in this part of town. Anybody here happen to see ‘im? He’s wearin’ a newsboy cap and wool coat, dirty lookin’, about yay high…” He held a hand in the air to signify a short height and only received disinterested grunts in return. “And he’s human.”

His eyes suddenly fixated on Frisk, and he took a few steps towards her as he studied her closely. A wary look was on her face as he approached her, and the man couldn’t help but smile at her discomfort. “Now tell me sweet cheeks, what’s a human girl doing workin’ in monster territory?” He asked, studying her carefully. He was nearly upon her when Sans stood from his barstool and moved between the two humans, effectively blocking Frisk from the man’s view. “i can answer that for ya easy, bo. see, she’s got a nice pair a’ getaway sticks, so we offered her up some bank and she took the gig. no harm, no foul. and last i checked, she ain’t exactly a shoe shiner, capiche? so if you feel like roughin’ her up, you gotta ask yourself… ‘do i wanna have a bad time?’” Sans asked, his words friendly but there was a hidden threat in his voice. The man in the white hat frowned at him, but the skeleton didn’t budge, his eye sockets trained on the man for any hint of challenge.

The entirety of the restaurant was on edge and not a soul moved a muscle. Frisk dared not move, in fear that there might be a shootout. All eyes seemed focused acutely on the two mobsters of different races, one human, one monster. The two of them stood there for several moments and stared each other down, silently calculating every possible way this scenario could play out. For a long while, there was a tension thick enough to be cut by a knife, a silence so absolute that the drop of a single pin would have been heard by all. One of the roscoes, the gorilla, foolishly decided to take a step toward Sans and was suddenly launched backwards, pinned to the far wall by a barrage of long white bones that the skeletal mobster had summoned from the depths of who knows where. With the gorilla looking like a horrifying combination of a big, meaty pincushion and a shower head, things took an immediate turn for the worse.

All hell had broken loose. The remaining gangsters drew their guns and opened fire on the short monster, but he easily dodged, yanking Frisk out of harms way. The Dog Squad leapt from their seats, weapons in hands, charging straight at the unprepared humans. Her field of vision suddenly flipped as she felt Sans use his magic to send her up, over, then behind the bar where she had reasonable cover from stray bullets. Eyes wide, she protected herself as best she could, grabbing a sharp knife that was most likely used to cut fruit for drinks. She didn’t want to use it. She was terrified of using it. The idea of having to kill someone was enough to make her feel sick to her stomach, there was no way she could bring herself to do it. But if worst came to absolute worst, perhaps she could deal a non-fatal blow if it meant getting away with all her internal organs intact.

Several more gunshots rang through the air and though Frisk couldn’t see much of the action, she could definitely _tell_ what was going on. The sound of deep, guttural, chill-inducing snarling sounded in her ears and she could clearly tell it was the largest of the Dog Squad as he thundered into one of the thugs, tearing into the solid body. Curious, she dared a tiny peek over the counter of the bar to see what was going on. Instantly, she wished she hadn’t. The massive canine had the thug in a hold of brute strength and gnashed his sharp teeth down on the guy’s neck, piercing the skin, making the man gurgle a scream of pain out. Then, in true dog fashion, the large dog shook him back and forth as if he were playing with a large chew toy. The goon’s body whipped back and forth through the air easily, as if he were nothing but a ragdoll, rather than flesh, bone and blood. His finely clothed figure was limp as an overcooked noodle and, realizing they were clearly outmatched, the remaining two gangsters turned tail and fled the building, scrambling into their car outside. 

They screamed at the driver, the man who’d had the unfortunate encounter with the rats, to give it the gas as they piled into the back. There was a brief glimpse of his torn, bitten up face and neck as he turned towards the building in confusion. His eyes nearly popped out of his head when met with the sight of a group of bipedal, bloodthirsty canines barreling out of the restaurant, directly towards them. Not wanting to be further mutilated, he stomped on the gas and the engine sprung to life. The tires spun and squealed as the Cadillac peeled away, leaving black skid marks in the road. The pursuing dogs were not deterred in the least, chasing after the vehicle as it raced off into the night.

The door swung on its hinges, nearly shut. Sans surveyed the room and used his magic to set the tables and chairs back up, before turning to where Frisk had been safely stashed away. She was trying to remain upright, but she seemed to be having a tough time of it. Her face was pale and she dropped the knife she’d been considering defending herself with as if it had burned her. She turned from the sight of the crumpled thug on the floor and glanced at the gorilla, impaled with so many bones sticking out at every angle that she was sure he more closely resembled a hedgehog now. She rubbed her hands over her face as if the action could scrub the gruesome, bloody sight from her memory. 

At some point Grillby came out of the kitchen and the two men spoke about what had happened, but Frisk’s mind was numb to whatever they were saying. Frisk was sure to be plagued by nightmares now, nightmares of guns, blood and dead bodies. Shivering at the thought, she wrapped her arms around herself and tried to shake the imagery that would be burned into her memory for quite some time. Sans had killed first. It was to protect her of course, but that didn’t excuse him. He had murdered that big brute with a flick of the wrist and nary a second thought. Her knees started shaking as the grim realization of how easily he’d impaled the big palooka sunk in. The adrenaline chose that moment to leave her system and she fell to her knees on the floor, unable to handle any more physical or mental stress tonight.

The world continued to move on without her input and she barely registered Sans and Grillby as the two removed the corpses of the goons, taking them to an enclosed room where the fire elemental could incinerate them in private. Her eyes just stared blankly into space as they mopped up the blood and spackled the holes in the wall that the bones had created. The questions kept swirling around inside her head over and over again. What was she going to do? Could she handle this? Was she already too deep inside this crazy mess to save Chara, let alone herself? Could she truly trust Sans and, more importantly, did she have a choice in the matter? She didn’t know. Doubt filled her, swirled around her, ever mocking. Limbs feeling akin to noodles, she remained on the floor, a blank but fearful look on her face. It wasn’t until he was standing directly before her, offering her a hand, that she realized she wasn’t out of the danger zone yet. Her eyes met his and she was a little unnerved to see a gentle smile on his face, as if he hadn’t just skewered someone to death. There was no blood on the hand he offered, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to take it.

“c’mon sweetheart, take my hand.” He prodded softly when she hadn’t taken his offered hand, “let’s get you back home.” The look in his eye sockets had a hint of pleading and despite everything that had happened that night, his countenance suggested he could be trusted. She almost laughed at the thought, but decided to appease him anyway. Exhaustion set in, both physical and mental, and she slid her small, soft hand into his bony one. Somewhere in the back of her mind a small voice nagged that he couldn’t fully be trusted, that he was hiding something from her, but she could do nothing about it in her current situation, so she might as well keep him happy at least. He pulled her to her feet and steadied her with both hands, keeping her close to him in the nearly empty bar. It seemed Grillby was deciding to close the bar an hour early to _take care of something important_ , so he didn’t mind Sans taking off with ‘his employee’. In fact, the fire elemental even surprised her by handing her two dollars – a nightly wage for wait staff – then handed her a crisp ten dollar bill separately, saying, “Great job tonight Steve! It’ll take a while for me to everything back to normal, so why don’t you take a few days off? There’s a week’s pay for a little incentive to come back full time.” On some level it felt counter intuitive, but inwardly she felt secretly blessed that this completely oblivious fire man was more ignorant and unobservant than he was amicable.

Once they’d gathered the clothes she had stashed in the washroom, her notebook safely tucked away inside the bundle of clothing in her hands, Sans led her outside to the parking lot. There was a black Buick sedan shining in the street lamps, looking like it cost more than a year’s worth of Chara’s salary, waiting for its owner. He led her over to the passenger side and opened the door for her. Frisk hesitated a moment, but climbed inside and clutched her urchin disguise to her chest, still dressed in the waitress uniform. Once Sans had closed her door and plopped himself down in the driver seat, he turned the key and the engine sprang to life. They drove in silence for a while, before she suddenly spoke up. “Why didn’t you rat me out to Grillby?” She asked quietly, still stunned the restaurant owner had given her so much money. Twelve dollars would buy her groceries for a good two or three weeks, with enough left over for a trip to the movie theater!

”heh. maybe i wanna see you work there so i can see you every day.” He offered with a shrug and wiggled his brow bones at her, “did you like workin’ there? you sure look _hot_ in that getup.” She looked at the uniform, fidgeting a little at his flirting, but smiled at his pun anyway. He took this as a cue and added, “grillbz really knows how to pick out a uniform, ya know? you’re practically _smokin’_ in that, steve could never quite pull it off like you do. just the idea of wearin’ it gave ‘im _heartburn_ and grillbz was too _hotheaded_ to listen to the joe’s complaints. and when that bird flew the coop, grillbz was pretty _steamed_.” Frisk chuckled at his awful puns, finding herself slowly start to relax a little as the car made it back into human territory. She felt a dull throb start in her arms and legs. It would only be worse in the morning, so she’d need to remember to take a hot water bottle to bed with her tonight to at least make sure her abdomen wasn’t hurting when it was time for her to wake up.

When they pulled up to the office, Sans parked on the quiet street and was moving to open her door before she’d realized he had even gotten out of the car. She hadn’t seen him get out, nor heard him shut his own door, but he was already opening hers and offering his hand to her. Dismissing it as a trick of the mind due to exhaustion, she placed her hand in his, smiling as his phalanges curled over her skin. They walked to the front door and she produced her key, turning to bid him goodnight, but he had other plans. A skeletal hand came up on each side of the door frame, effectively trapping her between him and the still closed door. She dropped both her key and the bundle of clothing in surprise. Tonight was just **not** her night. “mmm, not so fast sweetheart. you still have some talkin’ to do.” He murmured, leaning close so only she could hear him. The streets were mostly empty, but he kept his voice down, nonetheless. The light of the entryway wasn’t excessively bright, but they could still be seen if someone were to pass by and be watching. There was no privacy out here, but he didn’t seem to care.

”W-what?” Frisk stammered, her back against the locked door and her mind reeling after everything that had happened to her that night. “still shy sweetheart? that’s cute, but i got a few questions and i’m gonna need you to give me some answers. first question,” The slight distance between them wasn’t enough to stop her from feeling trapped as he spoke, “what’d you peep on to get the salvation chasing after you?” So he recognized some of the roscoes as followers of the Star? At least he’d given her some new information to chew on later. She cast her cocoa eyes downward, not exactly willing to forfeit the information she’d gained to a dangerous mobster. Unfortunately for her, Sans apparently wasn’t the kind of guy that would just let it go. He took her chin between his thumb and forefinger and tilted her face to his, his expression serious though he was keeping his voice gentle. “you scratch my back, i’ll scratch yours, remember?” His tone was slightly firmer, but she only bit her lower lip and averted her eyes. His expression darkened a little and he tried once again, “tell me.”

She hesitated again, but still remained silent.

“okay, if that’s how you’re gonna be, we can do this _my_ way.” The white pupils disappeared from his eye sockets, leaving them nothing but inky black pits of darkness and his grin stretched into something far more sinister. Frisk paled considerably at his expression and plastered herself against the frosted glass and the wood of the door. Her key was near her feet, but she didn’t dare try to bend down and pick it up. Even if she did, there was no telling what Sans might do. He stepped in a little closer, his chest a scant couple inches from her own and the hand that had still been on the door frame came down to grip one of her shirt’s lapels. His other hand still held her chin. He leaned in until his teeth were just a breath away from her lips and his grin only widened when he heard her audibly gasp. “Y-you said you wouldn’t hurt me.” She blurted out, recalling his words from the previous night. Her heart was pounding in her chest, hoping that he was a man of his word. To her surprise, he nodded, but any relief she would have felt was dashed away when he muttered, “this isn’t gonna hurt.”

Before she could question what he meant, he pressed his teeth to her lips, letting his magic ripple through her flesh for a moment, before slipping his tongue into her mouth. She froze, remembering the dream she’d had about him last night and coming to the sudden, jarring realization that it might not have been a dream after all. But that was preposterous! He couldn’t have entered and left the building since it was locked down like Fort Knox! No, it must’ve been a coincidence. It had to be, the familiar feel of his smooth, strong tongue must have been something her dream just happened to get right. As the muscle danced with hers, she realized it was not only longer than her tongue, it seemed a bit thicker and longer than a human tongue in general. It filled her mouth, but not in an unpleasant way. The hand that had been holding her chin caressed her cheek, then dug his fingers through her fluffy hair. The way the tips of his phalanges felt against her scalp sent small tingles of pleasure running through her. A tiny moan escaped her without her even noticing it, but Sans did.

“Frisk,” his voice was more of a carnal, breathless growl and it was as if the rest of the world faded into nothingness. She was somewhat surprised he could still clearly say her name with his tongue in her mouth, but dismissed it as he’d been communicating through a toothy grin previously. Her hands came up on their own account to rest against his suit jacket, the high quality material feeling fantastic against her palms. A haze of pleasurable delirium seeped into her mind as he ravaged her mouth. She barely registered his hand slipping from her hair down to her other lapel as he kissed her senseless. “tell me.” He repeated, voice dark as he gently tugged at the lapels, finally releasing her mouth to slide his wet tongue along the rim of her ear. His hot breath fanned over the light trail and she shivered deliciously at the sensation. His request wasn’t something she was willing to give in to though and she made a noise somewhere between a moan and a refusal. He moved to the sensitive skin of her neck, teasing it with electric kisses and running his tongue over her stimulated nerves. His hands gripped her lapels firmly as he continued his ministrations for another moment before steadily pulling them slightly more, “tell me.” 

_Pop!_

_What was that?_ Frisk wondered at the sudden noise, blinking in through the heady fog of desire. “tell me.” His deep voice insisted, pulling her lapels apart and popping a second button off the crisp white shirt she was wearing. Sans was still at her neck, pulling a tender area between his teeth and sucking at the skin. Alarm won out over pleasure, but not by much. What the heck did he think he was doing?! “S-Sans,” Her breath was ragged and shallow, “Please… stop… somebody might see us.” She felt him chuckle against the soft scoop of her neck and purposely pop a third button off her shirt. The upper curve of her cleavage was now visible to her, him, and anyone who decided to pass by. “guess you’d better start singin’ then, huh?” He suggested matter-of-factly, sounding rather smug as his white pupils reappeared to fixate on her from the corner of his eye sockets. “I… I can’t.” She bit out as his tongue glided towards her clavicle. He stilled and for a moment, she thought he might stop or have her let them inside the office - if he was going to continue molesting her, he should at least be decent enough to do it in private. Instead, in one swift move, he yanked hard, tearing all the buttons off and letting her shirt hang open. 

Biting back a shriek of indignation lest she draw unwanted attention, she glared at him in anger and disbelief, but his hands were on her before she could scold him. One fisted in her hair, firm yet careful, the other cupping her left breast. She gasped at the contact, heat flooding to her skin through the thin barrier of the peach colored satin bra. His mouth was on hers again and now his body was pressing her firmly into the door, a guttural growl echoed from where his throat should be. His touches felt amazing on her tender breast as he palmed it, squeezed it, rolled his thumb over the tip until it hardened. Frisk gasped for air, her breathing becoming erratic as he held her captive in clear view of the street. His knee made its way between hers, pushing them apart as he shamelessly fondled her in public. This… this was insane! Why did it have to feel so _good_? At least she had the small comfort of the streets being mostly quiet, she hadn’t even heard a car pass by at this late hour. She heard the telltale sound of the distant clock tower as it rang once, signaling it was closing time for ‘certain establishments’. That could only mean that people would start driving or walking through the streets any minute now.

“We… we need to get inside. P-people will see us.” Frisk panted, torn between wanting more and wanting to get the hell away from him. This man was dangerous in more ways than one. “tell me what i want to know and we can go in.” He responded, releasing her hair to skim his hand down her leg to the hem of her skirt. Her nerves lit up with excitement along the path his fingers had taken and her mind was flooded with endorphins. Shaking herself forcefully from the fog of pleasure, she was about to refuse again when she saw people starting to come down the street. It wouldn’t be long until they were close enough to clearly see what was going on here and she was certain they wouldn’t try to interfere with a mobster’s business. Frustrated, she bit out, “Fine! They had smuggled a bunch of tommy guns across state borders and they’re going to distribute them amongst their members! Can we go inside now?”

“now we’re getting’ somewhere!” He didn’t remove his hand from her leg, rather, he slid the bottom of her skirt up high enough that her panties were very nearly exposed, “one more question first, then we can go inside. where are they keepin’ the goods?” Frisk was panicking now, torn between not wanting to let submachine guns fall into the hands of the Magnolias and not wanting people to see her in such a risqué situation. She desperately needed to keep word of this from not only the public eye, but from her family as well if she was going to have any kind of respectable future. There were people going off in differing directions and there were people coming their way. Gossip would spread like wildfire if they saw, but if she spilled the beans on the location of the guns, the monster mafia would gain a huge advantage. Then again, keeping her trap shut meant The Salvation would have the upper hand. Maybe she should tell the cops? But would they take her word when the skeleton was finished with her? There was no right way out of this mess it seemed. “I can’t tell you!” She protested, but he refused to back off. Rather, he shamelessly tugged her skirt up and pressed his bony hips against hers. Suddenly, she was intimately aware that he was done messing around, he was going to get an answer one way or another. “tell me.” He demanded, deadly serious, “or i will take you. here. now. in front of all those people. hell, i’ll make them _watch_.” All the blood drained from her face.

“Sans, no.”

“sans, _yes_.”

“All right! The warehouse on the eastside, on 42nd Street! Please, let me go inside!” Frisk finally caved and before she knew it, Sans had both her key and bundle of clothing in his grip and was unlocking the office door. She felt his hand on the small of her back as he pushed her inside, seconds before the night owls were close enough to see what had really been going on in front of the building. Immense relief flooded her system the moment she was safe from prying eyes, even with the skeleton standing beside her in the office. She half expected him to further his ministrations, but when she turned to him, he seemed pleased and was once again acting like a normal, sane person. “thanks for finally opening up to me,” He smiled and brushed his fingers over her cheek, “i gotta get goin’. i’ll be in touch, heh.” At her bewildered look, he added, “oh… make sure you stay home all day tomorrow. i’ll send a ride to pick you up and you and i can get down to business.” Then, he kissed her cheek and exited the office, leaving a very flustered human girl behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had a blast writing this chapter! I hope you all enjoyed reading it! :D
> 
> What's in store for our smart, lovely, adaptable heroine? Tune in next Saturday for the latest chapter to find out!


	5. That Great, Big, Magnificent "P"

### Chapter Five: That Great, Big, Magnificent “P”

It was a good thing that Frisk had grabbed the stray buttons Sans had popped off her shirt before she went to bed, because when her alarm clock went off the next morning at eight precisely, she was barely able to reach up and turn it off. Her entire body was one big, throbbing cluster of misery, pain and fatigue. Everything hurt, all the way down to her toes. Crouching behind crates hadn’t been so bad, but slamming bodily into a locked door to break it open, leaping out a second story window into an overstuffed dumpster only to knock it over and roll to the pavement, clinging to a spare tire for several minutes and getting thrown to the sidewalk to roll to a stop, and _then_ surviving a bar fight took a heavy toll on her. It would take a great deal of effort to do the cleaning before getting started on the clues to Chara. Blinking her eyes blearily, she glanced around her room, decided the entirety of the office was clean enough that she could sleep in a little. Perhaps just another hour and she’d get up and make breakfast. Maybe if she was lucky, another hour of rest would help her relax.

When Frisk next opened her eyes, it was one thirty in the afternoon and she felt no better than she had previously. Although the temptation to just stay in bed and sleep the day away was a powerful one, she had work to do. Struggling with the constant ache in her arms, legs and abdomen, she was finally able to sit with great effort. With how much her nerves were screaming, it felt like she should add ‘hit by a bus’ to the list of everything she had gone through the previous night. Adrenaline had kept her going when she’d needed it most, but now she was feeling every bump, scrape, strain and bruise.

Bracing herself, she took in a deep breath and forced herself to her feet. Immediately she regretted it. Her muscles screamed at having been pushed past their limits and her joints protested with each stiff step she took towards the bathroom. It took far longer than necessary to reach the enclosed room, but when she did, she immediately stopped up the drain in the tub and began filling it with hot water. As the large clawfoot tub slowly started to fill with steaming water, she reached for the lavender bubble bath her mother had given her on her last birthday, pouring in a generous amount. The bubbles built up and frothed, smelling heavenly as the girl began to remove her modest nightgown. Even that was a chore at the moment, but when she was finally free of it, she studied her reflection.

Her reflection looked completely exhausted, sporting a hint of dark circles forming under her eyes and her skin pale and clammy. Moreover, there were red splotches all over her neck with faint tracing of what appeared to be _teeth marks_ from when Sans had preoccupied himself with her tender skin. Chocolate colored eyes narrowed in annoyance. No wonder he had told her to stay home all day today, he’d left his mark all over her! She couldn’t go out in public like this! Huffing in frustration, she turned off the tub’s faucet before it became too full and stuck a finger in the water to test it. With a yelp, she snatched her hand back to herself. It was scalding hot. _Well, how do you like that?_ She thought to herself, before her gaze fell on some loose change sitting next to the sink. 

Frisk stared at it for a moment before picking up a penny and grabbing one of the more prominent marred patches of skin on her neck. These blotches had to go before she could be seen in public, so she decided it couldn’t hurt to try getting rid of them. Starting at the center, she started scraping at the red mark, dragging the coin towards where the mark ended. Working diligently at the mark, she scraped and scraped at it until it was far lighter than it had been when she started. Surprised it had worked, she set to work scraping the penny over the other marks until they too were faded remnants. By the time she had stopped, her skin was sore and dirty from the coin, not to mention the bath water had cooled just enough that she could get in without burning herself.

Stripping off her underwear, she raised a leg over the edge, feeling the hurt muscles protest at the movement, but as her leg sank into the bubble-filled water, they relaxed. The heat from the water was incredibly soothing and she climbed fully into the tub, submerging all the way to her chin. _Oh my goodness, this feels wonderful!_ Frisk thought to herself as the lavender scented steam rose around her and soothed her mind, _Note to self, thank Mom. Thank Mom profusely for this bubble bath. She really knows her stuff._ Lifting a handful of bubbles she blew softly and sent a few of them airborne, watching as they lazily floated through the warm air.

The hot bubble bath was just what her aching body needed and she took full advantage, slowly massaging her arms, legs and abdomen as she scrubbed herself clean. When she finally drained the tub and rinsed herself off she was still a bit sore, but overall felt phenomenally better. She could move almost normally now and took advantage of that, dressing promptly and heading to the kitchen to make herself some breakfast. Turning on the radio, she set to work frying up a couple eggs and a thick piece of ham in the same pan. As the food started sizzling in the frying pan, a news report came over the radio about a disturbance in the east side. The announcer went on to describe that the incident involved heavy gunfire at the old shipping warehouse on 42nd Street late at night and several vehicles speeding off into the night.

While it remained unknown to the general public, Frisk knew exactly what the disturbance had been about, and she felt a growing sense of foreboding when she realized The Magnolias had acquired several crates of shiny new tommy guns. Granted, letting The Salvation keep the submachine guns wouldn’t have been any better, she still felt a little guilty that she’d practically sicced the monster mob on them. Scooping up the shirt and buttons from the desk where they had been deposited, she bundled them together and decided that she _was_ going to leave the office after breakfast today, whether Sans liked it or not. As soon as her meal was ready, she ate it as quickly as she could manage without burning her mouth and donned her shoes, a feminine jacket and a trillby hat. Once the dishes were washed and left to dry, she snatched up the bundle on her desk and headed out the door, locking the office behind her.

Walking down the street, she passed all sorts of city folk going about their daily lives. Both humans and monsters shared the streets, walking along and enjoying the lovely afternoon weather as the sound from the local organ grinder played in the distance. Clearly, she was far later than she had ever been in her life, but she wasn’t going to let that stop her. She marched herself several blocks west, towards a nice little tailor shop on a corner and opened the door. The shop itself had shelves upon shelves of items of all kinds. There were buttons and knick knacks, yarn and all sorts of beads in little cubbies around the shop, not to mention spools of thread as far as the eye could see. The lighting was somewhat dim and rather cozy, nevertheless and she walked up to the long counter where two lady monsters sat gossiping. 

The taller of the two was a green alligator with blond hair that ended in wispy curls just above her shoulders. She wore a pink shawl over her shoulders that was decorated with little triangles of different colors, her hands busily scribbling what seemed to be items for a stock order on a piece of notebook paper. Chattering along with her was a short, purple cat with cropped jet black hair that had a sheen of blue to it when the light hit it just right. She was dressed simply in a pair of blue overalls and was stitching away at a piece of embroidered fabric that was fastened to a hoop. As Frisk approached the two, they eventually stopped chatting amongst themselves and turned to her, their eyes shining with curiosity. “Hey, check it out!” The alligator said, eyeing Frisk, prompting the cat to echo, “Yeah, check it out!” Frisk blinked in surprise and looked between the two.

”Excuse me ladies, I was wondering if you could stitch the buttons back onto this shirt for me?” She inquired, placing the shirt and buttons on the counter before her. Two pairs of eyes widened in surprise, the narrow pupils focusing on the small pile of buttons. “Whoa, Catty! _All_ the buttons are totally, like, off this shirt.” The taller of the pair said, picking up the crisp white shirt and inspecting it. The name Steve caused her face to scrunch up in confusion, but she simply clucked her tongue at it as the shorter girl took a look. “”Wowzers, Bratty, they totally are!” The cat monster exclaimed, pawing the air a bit, then turned to their human customer and cheekily asked, “So how’d you lose all those buttons, all at the same time?”

”I was so gross from work when I got home I tore the shirt off without even thinking about it.” The girl replied without missing a single beat, “We had a busy night at the diner last night and it was so hot that I felt like it was suffocating me. Couldn’t wait to get it off.” Like hell she was going to tell them what really happened. The memory of Sans’ actions last night resurfaced briefly and she swore that she could still feel traces of his hands on her. It had been a strange feeling, foreign, but not unpleasant. And it had been her first time feeling such things, apart from that heated dream she’d had of him the night before. Mentally pushing those thoughts to a back corner of her mind, she instead focused on the women at the counter, who were talking about how gross sweaty clothing could be. She could think about Sans - and the wonderful yet slightly terrifying new things he’d made her feel – later. For now, though, she was going to stay focused on her goal. 

“You know, you’re the second human customer we’ve had this week.” Bratty was saying nonchalantly, snatching Frisk’s attention. “Am I?” She asked in surprise. She supposed she shouldn’t be all that shocked. Despite the Emancipation Proclamation being signed sixty-seven years prior, humans still couldn’t always get along with people who were different – whether it was as simple as skin color or magic powers that made up the differences. Society still had a long, _long_ way to go it seemed. “For sure! The other guy dropped off his jacket to be dry cleaned, but he hasn’t come in to pick it up yet. Y’know, he kinda looked like you!” Catty exclaimed, suddenly noticing all the similarities between her and the mystery customer, “Bratty! Doesn’t she totally look like that guy?” The alligator squinted at Frisk until she suddenly jumped back in surprise, “Oh my gawd, she totally does!” 

So Chara had been here before he had disappeared…

It looked like she had a new clue. Now, to get a little further in her investigation! “You mean to tell me that my older brother left his coat here? I thought he took it with him when he went out of town! Could I see it for a minute? He’d said he had something for me in there.” Frisk pouted, looking like every inch a frustrated little sister who had been teased during her childhood. _Hopefully, they won’t ask too many questions._ She thought to herself as the two monsters behind the counter looked at each other, then back at her. Luckily for her, they bought her schtick hook, line and sinker. Let no one say that there was no place for a couple of dim bulbs in the world. Still, she was incredibly grateful when they brought the wool jacket out from the back room and laid it gently on the counter. 

She searched it without hesitation, checking each pocket carefully until her fingers met the edge of something rectangular. Grasping it, she pulled the object from the inner breast pocket to find it was a simple white punch card with a single hole in it. It was blank on one side and had blue lines going down the other side. There was a simple message written neatly on one of the lines, reading _Please come back._ She quirked an eyebrow at the message, more than a bit confused at the context. Please come back? Come back where? She wasn’t completely sure, but she didn’t have to ponder it for long. Bratty’s eye caught the punch card and she pointed at it, deciding to speak up. “Hey, isn’t that from the burger and nice cream joint down the street?” She asked, her eyes suddenly getting a faraway, hungry look. 

“It totally is!” Catty exclaimed holding her paws up to her face and grinning, no doubt imagining the restaurant’s selection of food and drink as it was nearly dinner time. It wasn’t a place that Frisk had ever been to before and it was her best chance to get some much needed information, so she decided it was in her favor to ask for directions. “Is this place any good? I’ve never been there before.” She asked them, hoping they could give her any details about the place. They were more than happy to oblige. “Like, of course it’s good! They have all sorts of glamourous food because Mettaton owns the place. It’s a real hot spot because sometimes he stops by and people are totally dying to meet him!” The alligator said, heaving a dreamy sigh at the idea of bumping into the metal celebrity.

Although she had never met him personally, Frisk knew who Mettaton was. He had been a major vaudevillian for several years, drawing massive praise from monsters all throughout the city and even earning many human fans over the years. He frequently performed at several different venues all over the city, but he could most often be found at the MTT Resort in his free time. One day, she would love to see one of his performances. Perhaps if and when she was reunited with Chara, they could invite their mother along and enjoy a family outing at one of his performances. She was sure her mother would love coming into the city to see a vaudeville act. Then the three of them could have a lovely dinner together like old times. It was a nice thought, but until she rescued Chara, it would only stay that way.

On top of that, there was Sans. She had only known him for a couple of days now, but he became a large part of her life very quickly. It wasn’t supposed to be this way, he shouldn’t have been dragged into this mess, but he was part of it. But which part? Was he part of the problem or part of the solution? She couldn’t be certain yet. One thing was for sure, she was going to have to talk to him, _really_ talk to him and get him to spill his metaphorical guts. As long as she kept her wits about her and played her cards right, she should be able to get him to open up. And who knew? Perhaps he might actually be a nice guy, deep down. 

A piece of paper being handed to her brought her out of her skeleton-related thoughts and back to reality. Catty had apparently written down the directions on the paper in the event that she couldn’t find it. Frisk gingerly took it from her and thanked her. “Like, you should totally check it out soon, girl. You never know when Mettaton will show up there.” Catty was saying, a dreamy look in her eyes, “And even if he doesn’t show up, the soda jerks are pretty easy on the eyes too!” This earned a ‘tsk’ from her friend, who rolled her eyes at the cat’s antics. “Gag me. Don’t you have ANY standards Catty?” Bratty asked, eyeing her friend suspiciously, but the girl only laughed and replied, “Nope!!!” At that point, Frisk decided she had better get moving if she wanted to get anything big accomplished tonight. She thanked both girls graciously and left the shirt and buttons in their care.

Sliding the punch card into her jacket’s pocket, she looked at the directions Catty had written down for her. It was a bit of a hike and the sun was going down, but she didn’t have the luxury of waiting around for tomorrow. No, every minute was precious. Chara certainly wouldn’t just sit back and waste time if their roles had been reversed. He’d be making every minute count and coming to her rescue as soon as humanly possible. She only wished that she could do the same. It was only the third day of her investigation, but her brother had been gone for two days before she’d received the phone call from the mysterious voice. Five days and not a glimpse of Chara, only a coded note sent to her through a bundled up newspaper. Worry filled her, despite knowing that he was alive. 

At least, she **hoped** he was still alive after he’d sent her the cipher.

There was no way she could know for certain, but unless proven otherwise, she would continue to believe her brother was alive and well. And why shouldn’t he be? He was intelligent, resourceful and he was definitely cunning. He was in shape and should be able to defend himself, as he always carried on his person a pocket knife and a revolver. He had told her of a few times he’d needed the revolver and the fact that he only used it when there were no other options. Frisk shuddered at the idea of having to carry a weapon around; her strong distaste for hurting others was the primary reason she refused to own a gun herself. With her current situation she knew she should really consider it, but she just couldn’t bring herself to bite the bullet and do it.

About halfway to her destination, she looked down at the paper to make sure she was going the right way when she suddenly bumped into something. Or rather, bumped into _someone_. They had a grocery bag in each arm that they were carrying towards their car, a black Buick sedan, when they had collided with her. “Oh my gosh, I’m terribly sorry for bumping into you! I wasn’t looking where I was going.” She apologized to the man who, strangely enough, was a skeleton. Her eyes widened and she straightened her spine, immediately on high alert. Was this the guy Sans was sending to pick her up? And if so, how did he know where to find her? He couldn’t have been tailing her from the start, she’d have noticed a skeleton **this** tall following her around.

The tall skeleton looked down at her and grinned politely, surprising her. “WORRY NOT, HUMAN! I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, AM NOT UPSET OVER A SIMPLE ACCIDENT!” His voice was loud enough that Frisk was certain she’d be able to hear him from a block away. He was dressed in a tidy navy shirt and khaki pants, with a tan jacket and matching fedora. Oddly enough, despite being a skeleton, he wasn’t dressed like a member of the Magnolias. Internally, she berated herself for judging him by his appearance. _Way to be stereotypical, Frisk. Just because he’s a skeleton, it doesn’t mean he’s working with Sans in the monster mob._ To make up for her faux pas, she moved to the back door of the Buick and opened the door for him. “OH! WHY THANK YOU, HUMAN. THAT’S VERY KIND OF YOU!” His smile was a kind one as he bent to load the bags into the back seat. “It’s the least I can do for nearly knocking you over.” She said, casually glancing into the front seat of the passenger side. A single brown strand of hair barely glistened in the last rays of sunlight, right on the seat. The car didn’t just look the same, it _was_ the same! Her first instincts had been correct after all!

When he had turned back towards her, Frisk refocused her attention on him and smiled sweetly. She had to get away from this guy quickly, otherwise he might realize who she was and take her straight to Sans. Despite needing to talk to Sans eventually anyway, she wanted to grill the soda jerks for any leads they might have regarding Chara and there was no telling if they’d skip town or get fired if she didn’t show up, pronto! “Well, it was nice bumping into you, but I’m afraid I must be off. It’s getting pretty late and I have somewhere to be.” She said, giving him a polite wave as she gingerly stepped around him. “WHY, CERTAINLY! I, TOO, HAVE SOMEPLACE TO BE TONIGHT! PLEASE DO BE CAREFUL AND HAVE A WONDERFUL EVENING!” He tipped his hat to her and moved to get into the driver’s seat. She blinked in surprise as the engine turned over and his drove away in the direction she had just come from.

She honestly hadn’t believed that would actually work. Maybe it was the way she’d been polite, but didn’t linger. It could have been because he was preoccupied with the groceries. Or perhaps he simply didn’t know what she looked like. It was entirely possible that Sans hadn’t described her to this Papyrus fellow, now that she thought about it. In fact, she wouldn’t be surprised if the short skeleton had just written her address down on a piece of paper for him and sent him on his way. Her eyes scanned her surroundings, searching the crowds for the mobster she had become rather familiar with lately. When she didn’t find a single trace of him she sighed, somewhat disappointed. Why was it that every time he showed up it was always on _his_ terms? Realizing where her current train of thought was headed, she shook herself back to reality. She should be relieved that he wasn’t around, not disappointed! What was wrong with her lately? 

_I must really be lonely if I’m missing Chara AND Sans._ Frisk thought sourly to herself, _I’ve got to get a hold of myself and stop thinking this nonsense. He’s a gangster, for crying out loud! A dangerous, no-good criminal and one who has no use for personal space!_ This was crazy. She briefly wondered if she could be considered crazy too, with her scattered thoughts and her mixed-up feelings every time she was around Sans. She had to admit that she did find him charming, if a little pushy at times, and when he was acting like an everyday joe he seemed like a relatively decent enough guy. Decent enough for a bootlegger, that is. A racketeer, a mafia hitman or whatever role he was going to play in this investigation, she had to remind herself to be on guard around him.

Because it felt as if she was playing with fire.

Steeling herself, she once again pushed thoughts of Sans out of her mind and continued on her way. If Chara had spoken to the soda jerks about even the smallest thing, then she was going to find out what it was. No matter how big or small each detail was, she’d be sure to grill it out of them. As she walked down the street, her eyes focused on the directions scribbled onto the paper. The sun had sunk beneath the horizon and the street lamps were all starting to light up. There were fewer and fewer people on the streets now, but she paid no mind to that. She just needed to go about three more blocks and turn right and she’d have reached her destination. And if Papyrus came back to Sans without her tonight, then it would serve to teach the mobster that he couldn’t just walk all over and expect her to do whatever he wanted. After all, she was an intelligent young woman and she could handle herself. Frisk smiled to herself as she walked past a darkened alleyway, lost in thought. She didn’t even notice the man with the disfigured face watching her, silently stroking the bite marks that marred it, nor did she notice the two hulking figures with him. Unfortunately, she also failed to realize they had quietly emerged from the shadows and were following her.

That is, until it was too late…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man, a cliffhanger! 
> 
> This chapter was mostly a setup for the next installment, where things start getting a bit dicey. What insidious plans do those gangsters have in store for Frisk? Will she be able to escape? And how will Sans react when he learns that Papyrus couldn't find our lovely heroine? Tune in next week to find out!


	6. There Will Be Blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My wonderful hubby's birthday is this Sunday, and we're going out of town for the weekend to celebrate. That means an early update this week for our readers! :D

### Chapter Six: There Will Be Blood

His chest rose and fell gently, breath quietly flowing in and out as he reclined on the living room sofa. A black fedora rested over his face as he slept, placed there much earlier to block out the offending rays of sunlight that threatened his dreams. And what fantastic, sensual dreams they were. That lovely little number with the fluffy brown hair and big doe eyes the color of milk chocolate had moved in on his thoughts and dreams like a mafia don muscling in on someone else’s territory. Not that he minded. Oh no, he didn’t mind at _all_. He didn’t mind it when her memory waltzed into his thoughts while he went about his normal daily activities, didn’t mind remembering her breath shuddering in delight when he caressed her skin, and he **certainly** didn’t mind when he dreamed of her sprawled beneath him, her legs wrapped around his pelvis as her gave her a ‘bone’ she was sure to like.

From the moment that girl had first caught his eye at the MTT Resort, he was intrigued, or perhaps entranced was a better word for it. His gaze kept wandering to her; no matter what Lombadi had said, he’d kept watching her, though he remained discreet about it. It wasn’t as if meeting one of the higher ups of a rival gang in a famous resort wasn’t exciting enough for him, but it was strictly business and although Sans was good at dealing with scum, it wasn’t his favorite thing to do. The Calzotti Famiglia was in the market for powdered magic to add to alcoholic beverages so that their alcohol would skyrocket in popularity and Sans was willing to comply – for a price. It wasn’t like they were getting the best of what monster-kind had to offer the humans, but through the thermodynamic process of deposition, magic was transformed from its gaseous form into a solid state so that it could be ground into a fine, glittering powder and added to food or drink. The pure stuff was still homegrown and was the end result of fusing magic directly into seeds and bulbs prior to planting, but that was strictly for monster food. 

But Lombadi hadn’t been the sole focus of the meeting, despite Sans’ best intentions. Business was business as far as he was concerned, but when Frisk had come into the picture, things had become a lot more complicated. He had seen her from afar when the meeting had first started, had glanced at her every so often to realize she was getting closer to their table. Of course, it looked as if she were simply doing her job. Even he had been fooled when he’d seen her selling packs of cigarettes to the patrons in the entertainment hall. Then there was the fantastic view he’d gotten of her backside when she had bent over to light that cigarette.

That was one memory that would stay with him for the rest of his days.

Not only had it been a great view, but it had also frazzled his mind enough to completely miss the fact that she was obviously not one of Mettaton’s employees. Not that she wasn’t a looker, because she shined up nice in that outfit she’d donned, but what _really_ caught his attention was how sharp her mind was. Frisk had a quick wit and the uncanny ability to adapt to whatever situation he’d found her in, and Sans had to admit that it was what had him chasing after her. As a cigarette girl she looked smokin’, as a waitress she was quite the dish, and that night gown, though modest… His phalanges took hold of the couch cushions and squeezed tightly as his breath hitched in his ribcage. _oh man, i gotta stop thinkin’ like that. paps will be back with her any minute now, can’t let ‘em see me like this._ He thought to himself and moved his hat from his head to where his pants seemed to suddenly feel quite constricting. He grumbled to himself and sat up, trying to force his thoughts on less appealing images. After all, he had already started pursuing her aggressively. He needed to reign it in a little, build up her trust in him and then he could make his move. She might start getting suspicious if he moved too quickly and he couldn’t let her know the real reason he was after her, not just yet. Frisk might turn tail and run if she knew that she was - 

The telephone rang suddenly, jarring him from his inner musings and he hefted himself off the couch and over to grab the receiver. Before he could say a word, his younger brother’s voice blared through to him. “BROTHER! I’VE ARRIVED AT THE DETECTIVE AGENCY AS YOU REQUESTED, BUT WHEN I KNOCKED, THERE WAS NO ANSWER. ARE YOU SURE YOUR FRISK HUMAN IS HERE?” Papyrus asked, his loud voice laced with concern. _what? i thought i told her to stay home all day!_ “are you sure she’s not there, bro? maybe she’s just using the restroom?” Sans suggested, wondering if perhaps she was in the bath or even hiding from them. “I THOUGHT OF THAT ALREADY ACTUALLY, SO I TOOK THE LIBERTY AND KICKED IN THE DOOR. I’M CALLING YOU FROM HER OFFICE PHONE. I’VE SEARCHED THE PLACE ALREADY AND I CAN’T SEEM TO FIND ANYTHING.” He paused, then took a breath, “SANS… SHE’S NOT HERE.”

The moment Sans hung up the phone, he blinked out of his home and appeared next to his younger brother, startling the taller skeleton. He made a noise of surprise and hung the telephone up, turning back towards the shorter, clearly upset mobster. “do ya think we mighta just missed her?” Sans asked him, the white lights in his eye sockets scanning the office for hints of where she might’ve gone. Did she run off specifically because he had told her to stay here all day? No, that couldn’t be it. Frisk was looking for her brother, the missing snoop; there was no way she’d flee the city and leave him to his fate. Maybe she was out hunting for clues of his whereabouts? If that were the case, she could be **anywhere**. The lights faded from his sockets as he thought about what could happen to her, alone, out there in the city streets. 

Papyrus walked towards a shelf when the light had glinted off one of its many objects, catching his attention. It was a small frame, holding a picture of three people – two humans and a monster, looking very much like a happy family. The taller skeleton blinked in surprise when he recognized the face of the human girl in the picture and he whipped around to show his brother the picture. “HEY! I’VE SEEN THIS GIRL TODAY! WE BUMPED INTO EACH OTHER ABOUT TWENTY MINUTES AGO!” He exclaimed, pointing to her in the picture, “SHE SEEMED TO BE WALKING TOWARDS THE LOCAL MALT SHOP! IF WE HURRY, WE MIGHT BE ABLE TO CATCH UP WITH HER!” Sans perked up immediately and headed out the door in haste, his younger brother following quickly behind and slamming the door shut behind them. The two of them clambered into the waiting Buick, Papyrus at the wheel and Sans in the front passenger seat. “floor it paps, we gotta find her fast!” His voice was full of tension and he tugged his fedora down over his eyes a little, “i got a bad feeling about this.”

\---

Frisk had made it about half a block when she had the sudden, distinct feeling that she was being tailed. Not just watched, but actively followed and she didn’t like it. Not wanting to make a scene and bolt, she continued walking at the pace she had been using. If she ran, they’d know she was onto them. As she passed a large front window of a shop, her eyes discreetly looked towards the glass. Sure enough, there were three large men following her, two of which were clad in dark trench coats with their hats pulled down, obscuring their eyes. The other was clearly a mobster in a charcoal gray pinstripe suit and hat that looked horribly familiar. A cold chill ran up her spine when she recognized his scarred face from the previous night and it took all of her willpower not to run screaming into the distance. It was the man she had thrown the mass of cookies and gum on! She hadn’t seen him at Grillby’s place last night after the chase… apparently he had escaped the Dog Squad.

She had to get out of here, fast. It was about two more blocks to the malt shop and Frisk was confident she could out run those goons and get into a public place where there would be plenty of witnesses. The three men behind her weren’t toting tommy guns, so she wouldn’t have to worry about being filled full of lead, but she was certain they had hand guns tucked away in their jackets. _Only one way to find out._ She thought grimly to herself, and started walking a little faster. To her surprise, the men didn’t reach towards their pockets, but increased their strides as well. Was it possible they weren’t wearing iron? Did they choose not to carry firearms because they intended to draw out some form of torture, rather than give her a quick death? 

Unwilling to find out, she broke into a full run. Dashing down the street as fast as her feet could take her, she could just barely make out the lit-up sign of the monster-run malt shop. Yes! She was going to make it! It was only about a block away now and once she was closer, people would see the huge brutes chasing after her and she’d be safe. She couldn’t afford to slow down now. Not when the safety of a well known, popular joint was so close. Her feet scampered over the slabs of concrete as they almost seemed to fly by beneath them, she could hear her pursuers falling behind as she pulled ahead of them, far more used to speedily getting away. She could see the warm, welcoming lights of the malt shop…

She didn’t see the arm extend from the shadows of an alleyway as she was about to pass it.

It caught her just beneath the chin and she fell backwards, landing hard on the pavement beneath her. She sprawled onto the concrete, her back hitting painfully enough to jerk her head backwards and strike it on the walkway. Though the blow to her cranium wasn’t hard enough to kill her, she saw stars and her vision swam as another huge thug stepped out of the alleyway, reaching down towards her and grabbing the lapels of her jacket. He hauled her off the ground as if she were a sack of potatoes and held her just far enough off the ground that her dangling feet couldn’t touch. It felt as if her head was being held underwater, but the sounds of the three men catching up vaguely registered in her mind. “Thought she looked familiar. It’s the cookie brat.” Frisk could barely make out what the rat-faced man in the suit was saying. “All right boys, what do ya say we have a little **_fun_** with our lady friend, huh? Maybe she’ll learn her place.”

Treading water or not, her brain put two and two together and realized what was about to happen to her. Of all the horrible, gruesome fates Frisk had been prepared for, gang rape was not one of them. Normally, violence was something to be abhorred. One should never intend to hurt another living being out of anger or hatred. But this was different. Despite her code of non-violence, she wasn’t about to just lay down and be sexually assaulted! Though her mind was fuzzy, she took a chance and kicked out at the man holding her suspended off the ground. Her aim was true and the toe of her brown boot connected solidly with the man’s crotch, an audible _whump_ accompanying the attack. He folded in half and collapsed into himself, but rather than sweet freedom, she was snatched up into the arms of the rat-faced man and dragged forcibly into the alleyway. The other two goons had snatched one of her legs each, halting any further assault.

Struggling was a lot harder when there were three men keeping her from freeing herself, but that didn’t stop Frisk. She was determined to escape these rotten criminals if it was the last thing she did. Unfortunately for her, it just might be. Her best efforts were doing nothing to deter them from their dastardly intentions; it was as if her meager strength and weight counted for naught. The men easily carried her into the darkness of the alleyway, away from the safety of the sidewalk and prying eyes. Worse yet, the alley was a dead end. Her only way out was past the large men and she was greatly unprepared for a physical altercation. She caught a quick glimpse of the man that had clotheslined her picking himself up off the ground and dusting himself off before turning and entering behind her three other captors.

Frisk felt her heart sink as she realized that this was one situation her sharp intellect wasn’t going to get her out of. Her struggling was accomplishing nothing, save giving her captors a good chuckle. If she couldn’t think of a way to save her own skin, Chara was doomed. She was unable to squirm away, was unable to strike them, but she could still call for help! Taking a deep breath as discreetly as she could, she opened her mouth to scream. A fist collided with her stomach before she could make any noise however, her breath whooshing out of her in a rush. Pain had her trying to curl into herself, but the men prevented any movement she might think of trying. Shoving her roughly to the ground as she was still coughing, their hands grabbed and tore at her clothing, forcibly yanking her jacket off. The taste of iron was in her mouth as she realized she’d accidentally bit her tongue on the way down. Calloused hands held her down, pinning her to the ground as more of them gripped her shirt and tore it open. This was it for her. She couldn’t fight them off, couldn’t scream for help, she was certainly done for. Tears welled up in her eyes as she clenched them shut, not wanting to see what came next.

_**Whack!** _

It sounded like a baseball bat hitting a ripe cantaloupe. She heard a man grunt in pain and something wet spattered against her skin. _What on Earth…?_ Her mind wondered at the sudden noise. More noises sounded from around her and she was reminded of Sans shish kabobbing the goon last night. A single chocolate eye opened to see Sans standing over the rat-faced gangster, holding what looked like a large femur with a bloodied end. The skeleton’s left eye was a blazing cyan as he menacingly raised the bone like some kind of club, ready to strike the man again. The rat-faced man was clutching at his head with one hand, the other skewered to the wall behind him, he was screaming at his buddies to help him and they released the dazed girl and sprang into action. They didn’t quite make it to the skeleton when a second, taller skeleton also wielding a long, thick bone swung it at them. It caught the two goons that had been pinning Frisk to the ground and they fell backwards, blood oozing from the teeth Papyrus had bashed in. 

She lay dazed on the ground, frozen in a mixture of horror and relief as the scene unfolded before her. Her arms and legs were still a little sore from the previous night, but strangely enough, they felt as if they were being weighed down by some outside force. It was similar to the feeling she’d had when she had been lifted and placed behind the bar at Grillby’s last night. _Sans’ magic?_ She thought as she watched the skeletons assault her attackers, darkness threatening to overtake her now that the two had come to her rescue. Panic left her and her mind spun. She closed her eyes to keep from getting sick at the sensation, and slipped away into the realm of the unconscious.

Sans, however, was wide awake and beyond furious at the scene they had arrived at. It had been a stroke of luck that they had just barely glimpsed that thug heading into the alleyway and stopped, fearing the worst. Their hunch had been paid off, and just in time, thankfully. He’d skewered the thug that had been limping into the alleyway, filling him with so many bones he’d become unrecognizable as a human. The older brother had leapt from the Buick before it was fully parked, sprinting into the alley faster than he’d ever moved before in his life. There had been no time to lose and his younger brother had run in behind him without so much a question as to what was going on. The bone he had summoned had good heft, and when it hit that rat-faced bastard in the side of the head and sent him careening into the brick wall it had been immensely satisfying. A sinister grin stretched his face as he impaled the man’s hand against the wall with a sharpened bone, his fury burning so hot that his left eye blazed in its socket as he leaned over the downed thug. He was so angry that his entire body shook with unbridled rage.

As Papyrus took to beating down the remaining two goons, the older brother snarled at the man he’d pinned, eye sockets narrowing dangerously. “so,” His voice was dark, wicked, “you and your buddies like gangin’ up on a dame, do ya? ya like roughin’ up a pretty little thing, eh? bet it makes ya feel all big n’ bad, don’t it?” The heavy sound of a large body hitting the ground came from behind him, but Sans paid it no mind. He knew his younger brother would easily finish off the remaining thug on his own, so he kept his own focus on the rat-faced man before him. The man was glaring at him, trying to hide his fear and pain with an angry mask as his breath hissed out between clenched teeth. “All right, ya got us. You can take the dame, we won’t bother her again.” The pinned man gritted out, trying to ignore the pain of having his hand impaled into a brick wall. But Sans wasn’t convinced so easily.

“hey bro,” He called to Papyrus, who had his foot on the chest of the last guy and his bone club at the ready, “this guy seems to think he’s talkin’ to a couple of suckers. what do ya think we should do with him?” The taller skeleton seemed to be mulling over his question momentarily and the goon he had pinned to the ground tried to get loose. Papyrus simply stomped down on the bulky man’s diaphragm and knocked the wind out of him. “I CAN’T SAY THAT I ENJOY BEING PLAYED FOR A FOOL, BROTHER! I THINK MAYBE HE DESERVES A LESSON IN HUMILITY.” He responded, prompting Sans to turn back to the rat-faced brute with an unpleasant grin on his face. “well now, I think what my brother’s tryin’ to say is that you owe us an apology, bo. not only that, but you should pay up for the lady’s clothing. looks like you ruined it. that’s not very nice, now is it?” Sans asked, standing with the bone leaning on his shoulder like a bat “so go on, apologize. to the lady and to us.” 

“Tch, fat chance!” The man spat, clearly disgusted at the idea of apologizing to a woman and two monsters. A dark chuckle escaped the short skeleton, the sound truly chilling. “wrong answer, pal!” He exclaimed, swinging the bone suddenly. It caught the man across the face, crushing the man’s nose in one pass. He cried out in agony as blood gushed forward from the orifice and he cupped his damaged nose with his free hand. “try again, buddy.” Sans pressed, his left eye blazing brightly while his right eye socket was utter darkness. When the man clenched his teeth and didn’t respond, the skeletal mobster lifted his left hand in the air. A large white floating apparition materialized out of thin air, appearing as a sort of skull-like creature. It floated a few feet in front of the man, massive jaws opening slowly as a light appeared within. The rat-faced man’s eyes bulged in fear and he looked to Sans in a panic, muttering to himself over and over, “Oh God, oh God, oh God – ”

“god ain't here,” Sans said darkly, “but I’ll be sure to take a message.”

The last thing the man saw was an intense blast of light… and then he was no more.

\---

The dull throb of pain was finally enough to rouse Frisk from her slumber and Frisk groaned in annoyance, tugging the warm sheet and blanket up over her head and turning away from the rays of the sunshine. She rolled over in her bed, facing away from the window and tried to snuggle back into the comfort of unconsciousness. Nuzzling into the soft pillow, she breathed a sigh of bliss. When had her bed become so ridiculously cozy? Her eyes opened, expecting to meet with the familiar surroundings she’d grown accustomed to, but she was not in her room at the detective’s office. Hell, she wasn’t even in her bed at her **_mother’s_** house! Her eyes snapped open and she found herself in an unfamiliar place, in a strange bed. She glanced around the room, careful not to make any sudden moves in the event she was not alone.

There was no movement in the room for several minutes and she hesitantly raised her head. Sitting up slowly, she felt the dull ache in the back of her head from where it had hit the ground last night. It had been last night, hadn’t it? She wasn’t sure. One thing she was certain of, however, was that she had been saved from a vicious gang attack. Sans and Papyrus had come to her rescue and now she was safe, hidden from those who would harm her. It wasn’t really clear whose bedroom she was in, but she was certain it belonged to one of the skeletons. The room was obviously too ‘lived in’ to be a guest room. There was a tidy desk and chair nearby, a small dresser and closet, a lamp and a full-length mirror in the room. Strangely enough, there was also a trombone in the corner of the room, not far from the desk. The chair was pulled away from the desk and had a belt and a neck tie slung over the back of it; it was facing the bed as if someone had been sitting in it, watching over her as she slept. She wasn’t exactly sure what to think about that.

Carefully she climbed out of the large bed and stood shakily on her bare feet. One or both of those skeletons must have undressed her, as her torn shirt, slacks, hat and jacket were nowhere to be found. Instead, she was clad in a man’s button up shirt and – she was relieved to discover – her undergarments. The shirt barely came down to cover her thighs, so she assumed it belonged to Sans. _Considering he’s only a couple inches taller than I am, his pants might fit me._ Frisk thought to herself, crossing the room to his closet and opening the door. Inside were several articles of nice, expensive looking clothing, a few of which looked familiar. Gingerly, she reached into the closet and selected a dark pair of pants that looked like it would go nicely with the shirt she was currently wearing. She removed it from the hanger and stepped into the pants, drawing them up and over her hips without needing to unfasten them. She was surprised to find they started slipping down and quickly nabbed the belt from the chair, threading it through the belt loops and fastening it so that the borrowed pants wouldn’t fall. A little extra fabric bunched around her ankles, but she paid it no mind.

When she was ready, she made her way to the door and peeked her head out of it. She seemed to be on the second floor of someone’s home and she wondered if she was in a house or a large luxury apartment. Slipping quietly out of the room, she noticed two more doors on this floor and a stairway leading down into a living room. The scent of coffee and breakfast floated up towards her and her empty stomach responded with an annoyed gurgle. It smelled like bacon, eggs, sausage... and was that hash browns? She made her way down the stairs cautiously, careful not to rush into anything when she wasn’t feeling her best. There were a couple voices coming from the kitchen and she knew immediately it was Sans and Papyrus, and by the sounds of it, she was the topic of their discussion. She happened to catch part of their conversation and stopped to listen. “ – AND HER INJURIES AREN’T THAT BAD, SO SHE SHOULD BE BACK ON HER FEET IN NO TIME, BROTHER.”

“thanks papyrus. i was gettin’ a little worried with her sleepin’ so late, seein’ as she’s been out since before dinner.” Sans’ voice was tired and held a note of distress, she noticed. It almost sounded as if he hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep last night. Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. Had he been sitting in the chair at her bedside, watching over her, waiting for her to wake up? Was he so worried about her that he would do something like that? A small warmth blossomed in her chest at the sentiment and she decided not to cause them any more anxiety. As she was about to take another step, she suddenly heard Papyrus speak up again, though he kept his voice lower than usual. “SANS, WHAT EXACTLY ARE YOU TRYING TO ACCOMPLISH WITH THIS HUMAN?” It was clear that the taller skeleton was trying to be considerate and not wake the human he believed was slumbering upstairs. “isn’t it obvious?” He replied, but Papyrus clarified, “NOT QUITE, BROTHER. PLEASE EXPLAIN WHY YOU’RE PURSUING THE SLEEPING HUMAN.”

“aside from the fact she’s pretty _dreamy_?” Sans teased.

“SANS…” Papyrus’ voice held a note of warning.

“aw, come on paps. you know it’s ‘cause she’s different than the _rest_.” 

“SAAAAANS!!!!!” Papyrus shouted in frustration loudly enough to wake up everyone in a half mile radius. Frisk’s hand slammed over her ears to protect them and she could just barely hear the shorter skeleton chuckling from within the kitchen. “not into sleeping puns, bro? you should know it’s futile to give me any _sheet_ about them. nothing really _matress_ anyway.” Sans laughed, his awful puns getting his younger brother worked into a fit. She could hear him stomping around the kitchen and wondered to herself if she should put a stop to the shenanigans before the throbbing in the back of her head became any worse. Before either of them could continue the racket they were making, she walked into the kitchen and shyly cleared her throat, feeling somewhat awkward. Their attention was on her in a matter of seconds. “Sorry to interrupt fellas, but I was hoping we could talk.” She began, fidgeting a bit with her borrowed outfit. The two skeletons turned to her with large grins and Sans winked at her.

“good idea.” Sans agreed, fixing her with a stare, “howzabout we start with why you left the office?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone wondering why Papyrus isn't a total cinnamon roll, this _is_ a 1930s mobster fan fiction. Furthermore, Undyne admits in-game that Papyrus is "actually pretty freakin' tough". I'll keep him reasonably close to his canon self, but he's still a gangster in this story. See you all next Saturday with another update!


	7. Swirling Emotions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The writer's block I had for this chapter was _insane_. Thankfully, my hubby came to my rescue and helped co-author this installment. He came up with some very interesting (and hilarious) ideas!  <3

### Chapter Seven: Swirling Emotions

Well, she wasn’t exactly expecting to start the conversation with having to explain why she had left the detective office when Sans had specifically told her not to. He did not seem particularly pleased she disobeyed him, but she could not just let him order her around. If she let him get away with treating her like a helpless floozy once, vulnerable as she was, then Mr. Short Ribs would have no compunctions of forcing his ungentlemanly intentions on the pride of her gender. She took a deep breath in. If he wanted to tread on her like the cement welcome mat of a streetlight doxy then she would refuse to take that abuse lying down. Papyrus pulled out a chair for her and she took it, receiving a full plate of hot food from him. She poked at it for a moment, musing to herself. Something hit her then as she dragged a bit of hash brown through the yolk of her eggs in bid to drag on the silence, this was the trick of a good dick. Some would call the tactic gaslighting, something Chara would only do if he were desperate. The whole series of events with him seemed too conspicuous to be mere coincidence. Monsters never did dwell in the kingdom of ole'Serendip, so what was Sans' angle? Her mind fell over itself looking into the black mirror of her coffee in the vain hope it would tell her fortune. She squared her shoulders, the only way to know was to play along for a little longer and catch his hustle in its inevitable inconsistency.

Looking at the bony bastard right in those seductive sockets of his, Frisk explained, “If you must know, my brother has gone missing and I’m just trying to find him.” Keeping her voice soft and letting worry show as she spoke, “I live with him of course, and it’s been about a week since I’ve seen him last. Wouldn’t you do the same for your brother?” At this, Papyrus’ gaze had softened considerably and he gave her a warm, friendly smile. It seemed that, despite his fearsome ability as a mobster, his personality was still a welcoming, understanding one. It confused her a little. How was _this_ guy in the mafia? If he hadn't smashed in a few rows of teeth last night, right in front of her, she'd almost be convinced that he couldn't possibly a hardened criminal. “OF COURSE, HUMAN! WHAT AN ADMIRABLE GOAL!” The tall skeleton said as he set plates on the table for himself and Sans as well, before taking his seat.

The shorter skeleton kept his eye lights on her, giving his brother a curt nod of thanks. Apparently, her answer was enough to get on the taller skeleton’s good side, but Sans was a different story. “your brother’s the snoop that the calzotti’s are after. far as I know, they haven’t found him yet.” He said, digging into his breakfast without looking away from her for even a moment. A relieved smile broke out over her face. Although it was not much to go on this was genuinely the best news she had heard concerning Chara and she allowed herself to release the breath she forgot she’d been holding. She had no reason to hide this mote of joy. _Chara’s still safe,_ Frisk thought to herself as she finally decided to relish the much needed sustenance of her freshly cooked breakfast, _Thank goodness._ The hashbrowns were then consumed at a genocidal rate before her unchecked rabid consumption, a compulsion of her famished constitution. Papyrus stared in literal slack jawed amazement as the petite human started suddenly heaping serving upon mountainous serving of fried starch onto her plate. Bacon still hung limply half out of her mouth as she reached for thirds.

Mesmerized, the spindly bone jangler ignored the repeated sharp grunts of his stout companion asking for a refill on coffee from the pot Papryus held in his off hand. Sans, impatient, eventually stood. Walked around Papyrus. Tilted the taller skeleton's wrist so that the pot refilled both his cup and then Frisk's. Then, tilting the pot and hand back to their original position, returned to his seat at the breakfast table using the shortest route. Though it may have been too opaque for Frisk to glimmer through her own suspicions, the relieved smile on her face and her unladylike feverish appetite tugged at Sans’ soul. Momentarily a light dusting of blue coated his cheekbones. He had to admit, at least to himself, that while her table manners left something to be desired the dame's smile captivated him.

After a few bites of breakfast, he spoke up again. “you had us real worried there, doll. when paps couldn’t find you at the office, we feared the worst.” Sans said grimly, the dark circles under his eye sockets were clear evidence that he’d been up all night, “you’re lucky we saw that dope hobblin’ into the alley or things coulda been different for ya.” A sinking feeling formed in the pit of her stomach at his words. He was right, of course. Had the skeleton brothers not managed to get to Frisk in time, she would be ruined in both name and body. She would have been taken by force in that dark, dirty alley, raped repeatedly by those men and then thrown away like a piece of garbage. Or perhaps they’d have killed her afterwards, she wouldn’t put it past them. But no, like a pair of chivalrous knights, Sans and Papyrus had come to her rescue, saving her from those horrible gangsters. It was almost funny how a couple of skeleton monster mobsters had been her salvation from the heinous acts that humanity was trying to force on her.

Wait, was there a hole in her bag of marbles? Her hand, almost of its own volition, made a move to slap her face in a sudden violent motion that she barely covered up by pretending to mess with her hair. Now Sans was staring, mentally Frisk cursed. Worried that he felt something was amiss she shied her eyes away from the gaze of his penetrating white eye lights. In reality she had little to worry about, Sans was interpreting the mannerisms of his guest completely differently. She had to keep trying to think like Chara. This was awful. The bloody horrors of the previous evening might have her seeing Don-Quixote as Saint George the Dragon Slayer. The two Donner party rejects that were kind enough to feed her breakfast now could just have their lances point at their own personal windmills. Happenstance might be helping her now, but relying on these two might get her in even deeper trouble. Frisk thought to herself, _Why could I not just give up for a moment and be compliant like one of the dull broads featured in those dime store romance rags?_ It would be so easy, and again her hand with a mind of its own drifted downward in between her legs to rest casually as she continued to eat.

Sans' mind silently exploded at this juncture, he absentmindedly dropped his fork to floor with an almost conspicuous clatter. While reaching for the estranged piece of flatware under the table the lustful skeleton lifted his cranium in the direction of his desire. Now it was his turn to curse silently, never had he loathed the existence of his own pants and their inexplicable ability to get themselves loaned to a short skirt. If he could play the morning over again then he would have taken all his trousers out into the middle of the avenue and burned them with kerosene. This little tootsie was a real bone bender and all his noggin could think about was getting all up in her junior jumble. Noting the transpicuous pause of his brother Papyrus joined him beneath the table, “BROTHER, ARE YOU STARTING A FORK MUSEUM!?! I CAN HAPPILY CONTRIBUTE... ...BUT IF YOUR MUSEUM NEEDS DRAPES THEN I'M AFRAID THOSE ARE LOCATED UPSTAIRS!” In his haste to extract himself Sans' thunked his skull against the underside of the table. Luckily for him Frisk seemed to be lost in thought and had not noticed his unsolicited fixation. The brothers turned their focus on their own plates, Sans crunching in agitation on a piece of bacon. If the short skeleton's eyes were tommy guns, then Papyrus would have been Swiss cheese.

Ignoring them Frisk took her time to gather her thoughts, guiding herself back to rationality while enjoying the breakfast that Papyrus had cooked. When she was ready, she voiced a question she had been dreading to ask. “So, um… where can I find my clothes?” Two forks clattered down upon their respective plates as the utensils had slipped from the bony phalanges that had been holding them. It seemed fork dropping was the hot new trend today. The brothers glanced at each other for a moment before looking away, color splashing on their cheekbones. “UH, WELL YOU SEE, HUMAN, WE TRIED TO GET THE BLOOD STAINS OUT, BUT UNFORTUNATELY WE WERE UNABLE TO DO ANYTHING ABOUT THE CLOTHING BEING SO TORN.” Papyrus said, his cheekbones dashed with an orange color as he tried to focus his gaze on anything but Frisk, “I DECIDED TO GIVE YOU A LITTLE PRIVACY WHILE MY BROTHER CHANGED YOUR CLOTHING FOR YOU. HE WAS VERY WORRIED ABOUT YOU.” 

Sans continued to eat his breakfast in silence as his brother explained, his eye lights staring at his food as if it were of sudden great interest. Frisk watched him quietly as he finished off his breakfast, then hesitated for a moment or two before glancing up to meet her gaze. For a moment, he reminded her of a naughty little boy who’d just gotten caught doing something he shouldn’t have. The shorter skeleton stared at her with as neutral an expression as he could manage, but to her he looked as if he was anticipating her freaking out. It seemed, for once, that she finally had the upper hand with him. It couldn’t hurt to have a little fun with this, could it? “So,” She began, lifting a brown brow and angling her head at him, “You undressed me while Papyrus was waiting outside the room?”

The look on his face quickly changed from neutral to embarrassed. “w-what? i thought you’d be scared if you woke up in bloody clothes.” He defended, looking to his brother for support. Papyrus simply nodded and continued to eat his breakfast, oblivious to his older brother’s distress. “Certainly. I suppose that answer checks out, if that’s all you did.” She teased, and leaned forward, eyeing him with a challenging look on her face. He floundered for a second, his nervous gaze shifting between the girl and his brother. The uneasy look on his face suggested that he was considering sending Papyrus elsewhere to prevent him from hearing something. “well yeah, of course that’s all. i gave ya one of my shirts to sleep in and made sure you were comfortable.” His eye lights were shifting a bit and he didn’t look her in the eye. For a moment, she considered he was simply embarrassed. But then she remembered Chara telling her that one of the tell-tale signs of lying was a lack of eye contact.

Was he _lying_ about something?

Of course, this warranted a more thorough investigation. “So, you took off my clothes - ” She began, but was interrupted with an, “ _changed_ you into clean clothes.” She tossed him an unimpressed look and continued. “And then you put me in your bed, dragged a chair over and watched me as I slept. All night long. _Without pants_.” She emphasized the last words, staring at him coolly from across the kitchen table. He was clearly trying to regain his composure, despite the color on his cheekbones, looking as if he were trying to figure out the best way to handle a sassy human woman. He looked rather cute when flustered, she decided, enjoying watching him being the one to squirm for once. “OH MY.” Papyrus said quietly as he sipped at his steaming cup of coffee, looking clearly amused as he watched the scene unfolding before him. 

“hey, i ain’t some creep.” Sans interjected, his eye lights focusing on her chocolate gaze, “i’m just tryin’ to take care of you. y’know, keep you outta trouble.” Frisk gave him one of her sweetest smiles and he felt his soul throb at the sight of it. “And I’m so _very_ thankful you rescued me. So much that I’m willing to completely overlook that you were… how should I put this?” She began, tapping her index finger against her lower lip. “TRYING TO THROW YOU A _BONE_?” Papyrus offered, snickering as his older brother groaned and ran a boney hand down his face in exasperation. “paps, bro, you’re not helping.” He muttered in his low baritone voice, glancing through his fingers at the taller skeleton. Frisk chuckled at the pun, but despite his brother finally making a bad pun, Sans wasn’t really in the mood for it right now.

“Oh, I don’t know about that Sans. I thought it seemed pretty _humerus_.” Frisk teased, batting her lashes at the shorter skeleton. Papyrus chuckled at seeing his older brother finally getting a taste of his own medicine and thumbed through the nearby newspaper until he finally came to the section with Junior Jumble. “all right, now if you two are done _rib_ bing me, can we get back to your safety?” It was obvious how flustered Sans was getting and he tried to focus on the matter at hand, “those guys from the salvation had it out for ya toots, and i ain’t about to let them snatch you up while you ankle around town looking for a dick that’s lyin’ dormy somewhere.” He pointed his fork at her for emphasis and she gave him a questioning look. “Surely you’re not suggesting I go to the police with my findings, are you?” She asked, knowing that she still needed more evidence before the police could do anything about her missing brother. **If** they even believed her that Chara was in danger, that is. Although women were slowly gaining more rights, they were still treated as second class citizens. And for all she knew, they might simply dismiss her as being hysterical or out of her head.

“don’t go to the cops.” Sans said bluntly, jerking her out of her musings. “If you’re thinking I’d rat you out to them, I won’t.” Frisk defended, her gaze flickering between him and his brother. The two of them had saved her after all, so she’d repay them by buttoning her lip if anyone asked her about the recent disappearing of certain gangsters. “i’m not worried about that, sweetheart.” He began, his voice taking on a grave tone, “i’m talkin’ about the two-facers, the cops who ain’t cops.” Her eyes widened in surprise and horror as she realized what he was implying. Were there actually mafia sympathizers or low key mobsters hidden in the ranks of the police force? A sudden chill ran through her as she realized that the notion was more than plausible. If Sans was right about fake cops, finding Chara was going to be a lot harder than she’d thought.

“Oh, no…” She sighed, crestfallen. Even if she did manage to find her older brother, how was she going to protect him? She did not have a plan for that, at least not yet. At worst, they would have to take their mother and flee Ebott City, never to return. Most of her muster was all about the case, just where Chara's focus would have been. She had always been the one to take care of the minutiae before and after a completed investigation. Bills, filing, invoices, note taking, and transcribing legal documents. Even something as simple as putting together what would pass as dinner. Part of her, albeit guiltily, had always assumed that why Chara did not often handle many of these mundane affairs directly was merely a symptom of an inherent and uniquely masculine, selective form of sloth. Now that she had donned her brother's role she knew the thread of the story to be a different yarn altogether. Multitasking it all herself was a daunting task, but she had to keep going no matter how the situation unraveled. “hey, tell you what, paps and i will help you find him.” Sans offered suddenly, surprising her with his apparent clairvoyance. “Really? You will?” Frisk asked over eagerly like a thirteen year old girl over acting in a school play, hope once again starting to bloom in her eyes. Having a pair of delusional mobsters helping her find her brother might be a little risky, but currently these handsome clods were possibly her best – if not only – option. “OF COURSE, HUMAN! WE WOULD BE GLAD TO HELP YOU FIND YOUR BROTHER.” Papyrus said, dropping his newspaper. Only two words in the puzzle were circled so far, despite it being what looked to be an easy word search.

“but you gotta work with us here, toots. can’t have ya runnin’ around, gettin’ yourself in dutch.” Sans said sternly, eyeing her as he rose from the table. He grabbed his plate and set it in the sink, then turned and approached her, a smile on his face. She wasn’t sure if she liked where he was going with this. How was she supposed to save Chara by sitting around at the office? She decided to ask. “So how am I to get anywhere in my investigation? I’m going to need to get out and find clues to his whereabouts if I want to help my brother.” Frisk pointed out, deciding to stand as the skeleton reached her. There was only about an inch or two difference in height, but she much rather be looking him straight in the eye than look up from a seated position. “guess you’ll just have to get used to working with a partner.” He almost purred, reaching up and stroking her cheek affectionately, “i’m sure you and i would be real good for each other.” 

Heat rose in her cheeks and she took a step back to put a little space between them reflexively picking up a dish rag as she did so, but Sans took a step forward. She did not like the look in his eye, and after the actions of the men last night she might even despise it, but she wasn’t going to get away from him so easily. Sure, he might be tired from watching over her last night and he might be in slightly rough condition, but there was no way Frisk would slip through his fingers – not if he had anything to say about it. “That’s um… that’s very kind of you fellas,” she said wringing the dish rag tightly. “Very chivalrous indeed!” Frisk pounded the table thrice with rag in hand, covertly slipping a butter knife into the wrap on the third strike. “The two of you are certainly gentlemen to go out of your way and help me.” She said somewhat nervously as she took a few more steps backward, readying the butter knife behind her back, only to have the skeletal mobster follow her movements immediately. “oh, think nothin’ of it, sweetheart. we’re always happy to help a fine young lady, aren’t we paps?” Sans asked his brother, though his gaze was locked on the human before him. “INDEED, DEAR BROTHER! WHAT KIND OF HOSTS WOULD WE BE OTHERWISE?” Papyrus confirmed proudly and she wondered if he was daft or psychotic having gone back to trying to solve this morning’s jumble. She took another step backward and found herself backed into a wall. Realizing that Sans had steered her towards it without her noticing it, she took a step forward in hopes of making _him_ start backing up instead.

 _ **SKRITCH!**_ His arms circled around her in an instant and she squeaked in surprise, her eyes widening. “seems i caught myself a human.” He murmured quietly, leaning forward to press his forehead against hers in an intimate gesture she had not been ready for. Her heart started to beat faster in her chest now that he was so much closer and she wondered if he could almost hear it. The butter knife hit true, but he was unfazed, how? Why was it that he could make her feel this way so easily? He was a _skeleton_ for crying out loud! He shouldn’t be able to make her heart race or make her cheeks burn shyly; she shouldn’t feel any sort of desire for someone who didn’t even have flesh. So why did she? Was it his easy, laid back demeanor, his charm? Or perhaps it was because he was so intent on pursuing her beyond the point of decency. Either way, the more she interacted with him, the more she felt connected to him. The assault of the previous evening invested her with a bizarre energy, an energy that had no outlet. She pushed against him, and he embraced her all the more. Her body was trembling, she flailed ineffectually against him. He managed to wring his hand in hers and quietly disarmed her. She never heard the utensil hit the floor over the insurmountable cacophony of her own emotion. His mouth opened, and he struggled to speak but the only words to fall flaccidly from him were, “doll, you don't need to butter me up...” She wept. “...i'm not a piece of toast.” She laughed. It was not funny. It was not anything. They stood there for a good ten, perhaps twenty minutes, as two statuettes. Immobile against the old lathe and plaster. It would be a mistake to put all of her trust in him, considering she didn’t know him – or his brother, for that matter – very well, but for now she had to take what help she could get.

After all, he could be very sweet when he behaved himself.

The circle of his arms was strangely comfortable, despite him being made of bone, and she found it was much easier to relax around him when he wasn’t holding her virtue hostage in public. In fact, he was almost endearing with his offer to help her find her brother. Of course, he obviously wasn’t helping her out of the kindness of his heart; he and his brother were mobsters after all. No… there must be something in it for them, she just had to figure out what it was before things got hairy. Until then, it was of the utmost importance that she gather as much information as she could and have a plan of escape if the skeleton brothers decided to turn on her. Papyrus didn’t seem like the kind of guy that would betray anyone, but she _did_ just witness him beat full grown men to death in a dark alley last night, so she couldn’t completely dismiss the idea. And Sans… he was a hard one to read. He came on strong, but would back off under certain circumstances. He seemed to respect her as a woman, which was rare in this day and age, but at the same time he seemed to want her all to himself. He had killed for her. More than once. She wasn’t sure what his game was but she was going to find out, whether he liked it or not. 

She watched him cautiously as he hugged her closer, drawing her lips unnecessarily close to his teeth. Oh, what he wouldn’t give for another taste of that soft pink petal-like mouth. Just the thought of it was enough to make him yearn for her, but he knew he should rope it in a little. He was already overstepping more than a few boundaries, but he just couldn’t bring himself to care. If he played his cards right, she was sure to come around and see things from his point of view. He was certain that she’d be putty in his hands before too long and frankly, he could hardly wait. The idea of it was even more thrilling now that she was trapped within his firm embrace, wearing his clothing. He grinned and winked at her, “y’know, you look fantastic in that getup if i say so myself. if i knew you wanted to get in my pants, i’da brought you home that first night.” Papyrus huffed loudly from the table and scolded his brother. “DON’T RUIN THE MOMENT, SANS!”

She could slap him for that. Hell, she should probably slap him for that, but she decided to abstain. If she was going to be working with these two, she’d likely have to deal with more shenanigans as time wore on and she didn’t want to seem ungrateful. Even if Sans decided to be a turd. She would gladly do whatever it took to bring Chara back alive and if that meant staying on the brothers’ good side, so be it. With that in mind, Frisk gave him a challenging smile, trying hard not to think about how she'd reacted when he'd pushed her too far, too fast. Her emotions were in turmoil from the attack last night, but she did her best to remain strong. “You’ll have to do a little better than that, Sansy-boy.” She said, matter-of-factly, tapping him lightly on the edge of his nasal cavity. The skeleton looked taken aback momentarily, but when he recovered, the look on his face screamed of excitement. “oh, is that a challenge?” His voice sounded thrilled and more than a bit hungry as he leaned so close to her that she wondered if he was unscrupulous enough to try something perverse in front of his younger brother. She hoped not, but she wouldn’t put it past him.

Suddenly, a squeal of glee erupted from said brother and it drew the attention of the two towards the kitchen table. Papyrus was sitting there with his jaw resting on both his gloved hands, staring at them with a dreamy expression on his face. For reasons Frisk couldn’t hope to explain, his eye sockets seemed to sparkle with unadulterated joy, despite normally being an inky black. Bright orange colored most of the front of his skull as he stared at them with an almost dopey expression. “ARE YOU TWO GOING TO SMOOCH?” The long, spindly skeleton asked them, his voice sounding airy, “IF SO, PLEASE, DON’T MIND ME!” She nearly choked on her own saliva. Did Papyrus read those dime store romance rags?? Sans, on the other hand, seemed to have _no_ problem continuing what had already started. But as he leaned forward, Frisk snatched a sausage from her plate and promptly shoved in his mouth. Stunned, he looked at her in confusion, accidentally releasing his hold on her. She danced from his grip and simply told him, “You looked hungry.” Then she nabbed a sausage for herself and wiggled it at him playfully, before biting into the end of it and walking out of the kitchen. 

He supposed he deserved that, being left wanting after pushing her too quickly, considering the events of last night. It wasn’t as if he were _trying_ to be insensitive, but there was only so much time he could spare trying to seduce her before things started getting dangerous. She had already spied The Salvation bootlegging tommy guns into Ebott City and because of her actions, several gangsters were dead. It wouldn’t be long before the followers of The Star would start hunting her down and Sans was certain it wouldn’t take them long to dispose of her. Frisk was going to need him and Papyrus more than she realized – not only for finding her brother, but for keeping her safe. He grimaced as he heard his younger brother sigh dejectedly behind him and he turned to see him staring vacantly down at the newspaper. “DID I RUIN THE MOMENT?” Papyrus asked, his voice low with shame. Sans shook his head at him and gave him a small smile, “nah, paps. you never mess anything up. she’ll come around, she just needs a little time.”

The look on his brother’s face still didn’t seem convinced, but he smiled anyway. Frisk probably wasn’t going to be excited to hear that they couldn’t let her go back to the office, but they could talk about that when she calmed down. This morning had been stressful enough for her that they could give her time to recover before giving her the bad news. Perhaps she’d be more receptive if given time for everything she had to deal with, but that was one thing they didn’t have in abundance. The more she searched for Chara, the greater danger she was in. And the longer that detective was missing, the worse it was going to be for more people than Frisk realized. Finding that guy was a top priority, second only to keeping Frisk with the skeleton brothers. So it was up to him to keep her with them, no matter what her intentions were. She was far too important to be left to her own devices.

She just didn’t know it yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It looks as if _someone_ may have ulterior motives for his actions! And what's this? Frisk having a slight breakdown after being pushed too far? Tears of guilt and pain when she clearly didn't really want to hurt Sans? Breakfast was an emotional roller coaster for our heroine; how will she react when she finds out she can't go back to living at the office? Why are there so many questions in the ending notes?
> 
> Be here next Saturday for the next chapter!


	8. Root Beer Floats

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who are interested, here's a list of 1930s slang: https://www.miskatonic.org/slang.html

### Chapter Eight: Root Beer Floats

The rest of the morning was less eventful and far less stressful than breakfast had been, with the three of them sitting in the living room. They made small talk for a while until Frisk was comfortable enough to let slip that she liked jazz music. After that, the conversational floodgates had opened and the three of them spoke animatedly about their favorite musicians and vaudeville acts. Papyrus in particular was very vocal in praising Mettaton, the famous robot star that had taken Ebott City by storm. And who could blame him? The robot was truly unique – no human or monster had ever seen anyone like the metal man. He was tall, he was gorgeous, and he had legs for days. Not only that, but he could handle any role that was given to him, whether comedic, tragic, male or female.

At one point, Frisk had excused herself to go back up to Sans’s room and make the bed. He’d told her that she needn’t worry, that he didn’t mind if she left the bed messy, but she insisted and headed to the room anyway. Upon entering, she noticed a pile of dirty clothing in the corner that she somehow missed earlier. Taking a few steps towards it, she noticed it was a pile of socks. There were white socks, gray socks, black socks, navy socks, and even a few that were brightly colored with patterns or stripes. On the far side of the pile was a pair of men’s slippers that were, strangely, pink of all colors. She raised a single brown eyebrow at the color of the slippers, but shrugged it off and moved to make the bed. She had just grabbed the edge of the sheet when Sans casually strolled into his room, heading towards his dresser to replace the undershirt he had been wearing earlier. Her head jerked in his direction, but rather than getting in her personal space , he yanked the old shirt over his head. 

She squeaked in surprise and her hands shot up to cover her eyes before she realized she was simply staring at a rib cage. It had no lungs or other internal organs. Rather, it housed a single, glowing upside-down heart. _What is that? Is that his soul?_ Frisk wondered to herself, her eyes transfixed on the heart shaped soul. It pulsed a cyan blue color in his chest, shimmering as if it were made up of swirling, sparkling blue dust. It was absolutely beautiful and she was moving to get a closer look at it, before she suddenly halted her steps. Her eyes darted up to Sans’s face and found him staring at her with interest. A smile was on his face, but it wasn’t smug or aggressive. “Er, sorry. I didn’t mean to stare.” She turned to the bed and grabbed the sheet, pulling it towards the top of the bed and smoothing it before grabbing and pulling the blanket and comforter up in the same way. Her ears picked up the sound of clothing rustling and she knew he’d pulled the new undershirt on, before moving to the closet to pull out a dress shirt. 

The knife must have punctured the shirt in the space between his ribs, she realized with relief as she placed the pillows neatly at the head of the bed. She hadn’t wanted to hurt Sans, far from it actually, but having come so close to being gang raped had put her on edge and his aggressive come-ons spooked her into defending herself as best she could. It had been completely ineffective and she was happy for that. Her mother hadn’t raised her to be violent and had she actually harmed him, she might never have been able to look herself in the eye again. The sound of shifting fabrics drew her attention to the skeleton as he threw on the dress shirt, his boney fingers moving to button it. “i don’t mind you starin’, sweetheart, i’m just glad ya didn’t run off after the stunt i pulled this morning. shoulda known better.” Sans said, his eye sockets turned towards her in a sincere apologetic look, “hope ya got it in your heart to forgive me. y’know… for bein’ a chump.” 

She blinked at him in surprise, momentarily taken aback by his apology. Perhaps he wasn’t such a bad guy after all. She’d still have to be careful around him and his brother, but maybe they could see eye to eye socket easier from now on. He was still dangerous and unpredictable, a racketeer and killer, but there wasn’t much she could do about that. A tiny smile grew on her lips as she nodded to him. “Only if you forgive me for this morning too.” She said, earning a smile from him as he finished buttoning his shirt. “you got it, doll. but before we get too relaxed here, i gotta tell ya, we can’t have ya stayin’ at that office for a while. since ya peeped on the salvation and tipped us off on the gats they snuck in, words been goin’ round that there’s a lady snoop stickin’ her nose where it don’t belong.” Sans explained, “we can set you up here and keep ya safe, but we’re gonna need you to lie dormy for a while.” 

Frisk knew that kind of thing was coming eventually, but she didn’t think it would be so soon. This could prove to be a serious problem when it came to poking around. “Going around the crime rings or the entire city?” She asked, hoping for a little clarification on the matter. “just the criminal underground. you should be okay with walkin’ around during the day, but not for a while. paps and i can escort ya any place you wanna go, so be sure to always have at least one of us with ya.” He explained, motioning for her to follow him out of the room and down the stairs. The two of them walked in silence until they joined Papyrus near the front door. The taller skeleton seemed to be dressed for heading out into town and he handed her a beige trench coat and fedora that looked to be nothing out of the ordinary. They fit her reasonably well and she realized that the clothing belonged to Sans . The two brothers flipped up the collars on their jackets and she quickly did the same when she realized they were planning on accomplishing something tonight. 

Following Papyrus out the door, they went down a few steps to where the black Buick sat waiting for them. She turned around to see the shorter brother locking the door to the two-story house they’d just come out of. Well, that answered one question. When she looked back towards the car, she spotted the taller skeleton opening the door to the backseat for her. She quickly slid into the seat and he shut the door, taking his place behind the wheel while Sans rode shotgun. “So, where are we heading?” She asked curiously as the engine roared to life. “first we’re gonna made a trip to the tailor’s. they have a couple things we’ll need.” Sans explained as the car made its way down the city streets. Several storefronts flew by as they drove and she made sure to watch the street signs so she knew how to get back to the skeleton brothers’ house safely.

It didn’t take them long to arrive at the tailor and the two monsters Frisk had met yesterday were once again behind the counter. They sat there chattering away noisily while the skeleton brothers and their human companion made their way to the counter. All talking halted the moment the three were standing before the cat and alligator girls and Bratty was the first to speak up. “Oh, hi Steve! We’re all done fixing your shirt. We’ve got all the buttons sewn back on and Catty even fixed the embroidery on it!” The tall girl said, then blew a pink bubble with her chewing gum. “Yeah, totally! I hope you don’t mind, I just thought ‘Stevie’ would be way cuter for you!” Catty said, handing over the white dress shirt. The buttons were back in their proper places, no thanks to a certain skeleton, and all the blue stitches had been pulled out and replaced with a lovely mauve color. The name Stevie was stitched carefully in beautiful cursive lettering on the left chest. Well, she supposed Grillby wouldn’t mind too much if he noticed it at all when she returned the clothing.

But that wasn’t the only thing they were here to pick up. Apparently, they needed more clothing for whatever reason. Sans stepped up to the counter and handed Catty what appeared to be a list of garments, for both men and women, and he handed her a large stack of crisp green bills. “here, we need these ordered as soon as possible, rush delivery if ya can. keep anything left over for yourselves as a gesture of good will, if ya know what i’m sayin’.” Sans instructed, speaking somewhat lowly and giving her a wink. Frisk knew what he was doing of course, he was bribing them to stay quiet, but she couldn’t help but feel the tiniest twinge of jealousy. She pushed it to the side when she recognized a familiar jacket that was still hanging up in the back of the shop. 

Apprehension started building up in the pit of her stomach as she stared at it, noting that Chara _still_ hadn’t stopped in to pick it up. He was still alright , wasn’t he? He had to be, he was her big brother. She bit her lip, worrying silently as the worst of possibilities started popping up into her mind. Before the seeds of doubt could burrow into her head , she pointed to the jacket. “Um, would you mind if I picked up my brother’s jacket? Knowing him, he’ll probably forget he even brought it in here.” Frisk pulled some money from her pocket, but Sans stopped her and tossed some bills to the ladies behind the counter. “i gotcha.”

Bratty plucked the jacket from the hanger and passed it to the human girl carefully, thanking her for the business and Frisk gave her a big, warm smile. Unable to help herself, she hugged both the shirt and jacket to her chest. It was a poor substitute to hugging her brother, but it was all that she had right now. As they finished up their order, the three of them headed back to the Sedan and got in, Frisk snuggling the jacket to her as if it would help her rescue her brother. Glancing up, her eyes met with Papyrus’s gaze in the rearview mirror and he gave her a supportive smile. “DON’T YOU WORRY, MISS FRISK. WE’LL DO EVERYTHING IN OUR POWER TO HELP YOU GET YOUR BROTHER BACK.” The lanky skeleton said as he drove a few blocks down a familiar street, “BUT IN THE MEANTIME, WHY DON’T WE ALL GET SOME NICE CREAM? THAT SHOULD CHEER YOU UP!” She couldn’t help but smile at the taller skeleton and his sweet, but sometimes goofy personality. How in the world did someone like that end up in the mafia?

“good thinkin’, paps. maybe we can get some answers while we’re down here.” Sans suggested as he turned a knowing smile in her direction. She raised an eyebrow in confusion at him, then glanced out the window and realized where they were. It was the malt shop she had been on her way to just yesterday. The sign was all lit up and was shining brightly in the waning hours of the late afternoon. Mixed feelings swirled inside her. She had nearly made it to the malt shop when she’d been attacked, but she had also been saved from those attackers. No one knew her here. She was dressed in men’s clothing and had ample protection from harm. A stroke of genius hit her just then and she traded Sans’s jacket for Chara’s, mussing her hair a little and fixing it to look the way her brother liked to wear it. The moment she was done, she flipped the collar back up and nodded to her companions. It didn’t take them long to realize she was intending to get answers by impersonating Chara. Crossing the parking lot, the small group entered the malt shop to find a reasonable number of customers within. Not too many, not too few. They had definitely beaten the dinner rush. 

Strolling up to the counter, they saw two soda jerks behind the counter. One was a tall blue rabbit with his long ears standing upright as he jovially sprayed soda from a nozzle into some glasses , then topped them with a spray of whipped cream and a cherry on top. His energy seemed limitless for a guy who regularly worked with the public and his smile was the kind that could probably cheer up even the crankiest of patrons. He moved in time with the music that flowed from the audiophone, a wide, bulky machine that would let customers pay coin and choose between eight different records. What an advancement in technology! The other soda jerk was as tall as the first, but it was less obvious from his slouched position. He was an orange tabby cat that looked over-worked and under-paid. His demeanor was almost the polar-opposite of his co-worker, though he still smiled as he served customers. There was noticeably less of a bounce in his step and a cigarette was balanced between his teeth. It was probably the only thing that kept him sane at this job, what with all his peers laughing, joking and having a good time while he worked his tail off. 

Frisk had no idea which soda jerk was the one Chara had been in contact with. Her eyes darted back and forth between the cat and rabbit. It was impossible to tell which one she should talk to, if either was the correct choice. Behind them there was a pickup window leading into the kitchen, where the hot meals were being cooked . She could just barely make out the large, rotund figure of the cook as he shoveled some fries onto the side of a plate that had a steak on it. He was human, though she had to look twice to realize it from the shape of his face. He almost looked like a troll, but she wasn’t going to bring that to his attention. The plate landed unceremoniously on the sill of the pickup window with a loud thud and the man’s gruff voice grunted out, “Pickup.” The blue rabbit darted over and swiped the plate from the sill, giving the cook a winning smile, but the man just scowled at him and furrowed his bushy black eyebrows. The cook seemed almost like a hulking giant back there and she made a mental note not to draw his attention.

The moment her attention was away from the cook, the rabbit was in front of her, flashing his pearly whites at her at the skeleton brothers. “Hiya, buddy! Back again, I see. What can I do for you this time?” He asked jovially, clearly confusing her for Chara, “I see you have friends with you this time. That’s swell of you, treating your pals to some goodies. Are you ready to order or do you need a few minutes?” She glanced at her companions and found them studying the menu, trying to decide what to order. “I think we might need a bit. Come back in five?” Frisk asked him, putting on her best Chara impersonation. To her relief, he nodded and zipped off to take care of a teenage couple that had just come in. 

As she turned towards the skeleton brothers, Sans leaned towards her just a little and kept his voice low as he spoke. “paps and i will keep our peepers peeled for any trouble, so you ask any questions you need. here’s some cabbage if ya need it.” He said, shifting nonchalantly and slipping her some cash. Her eyes widened slightly when she felt the thick wad of bills in her hand and she gave him a slight nod, smiling at him. Papyrus didn’t appear to be paying them any mind, quietly debating with himself about what he wanted to order. “HMM… CHOCOLATE OR VANILLA. OR PERHAPS I COULD GET A COLA? BUT I WANT SOME NICE CREAM. UGH, WHY DOES EVERYTHING ON THE MENU LOOK SO TASTY?” Grumbling, he crossed his arms over his chest and looked at her and Sans, “WHAT ARE YOU GUYS GETTING?” 

She hesitated for a moment, realizing belatedly that she hadn’t bothered thinking about what she was going to order. “Um, a root beer float?” She suggested offhandedly, picking it at random from the menu. Papyrus’s whole demeanor seemed to sparkle with her decision. He was clearly impressed with her ability to make a great choice in such a small amount of time. “WHY, HUMAN! THAT CHOICE IS A FANTASTIC AND WELL THOUGHT-OUT DECISION! I APPLAUD YOU AND YOUR WIT!” Papyrus praised her, standing at his full height and lifting a finger into the air to further emphasize his words, “I, TOO, SHALL INDULGE IN A ROOT BEER FLOAT AND ENJOY BOTH COLA _AND_ ICE CREAM! IT’S THE BEST OF BOTH WORLDS, RIGHT, BROTHER?” Sans grinned up at his younger sibling and gave him a nod, “sure is, paps. think i’ll join the club and have one too.”

The commotion Papyrus was causing, drew the attention of the blue rabbit and he bounded back over with a great big smile on his face. “I take it you gents are all set to order?” He asked and Frisk caught a glimpse of the name tag that was pinned to his shirt. It read ‘Neil, the Nice Cream Guy’. How utterly appropriate that was, given his sunny attitude and cheerful outlook. “We sure are. We’d like three root beer floats, if you don’t mind.” Frisk said, pulling a dollar from the wad of bills Sans had given her. It wasn’t as if she’d particularly need to use the whole thing. Each float was only fifteen cents, but that price was still nothing to sneeze at. Having a pocket full of cash was something she hadn’t exactly gotten used to, considering the way the economy currently was and she felt a little uneasy handing over a dollar bill instead of two quarters.

Neil took the dollar without batting an eye and rang them up, returning with their change before skipping off to scoop the vanilla nice cream into three large frosted glasses. As she watched him pour the root beer over the nice cream, she realized he seemed blissfully ignorant of any kind of business that could be shady or mafia related. So Neil the Nice Cream Guy wasn’t who Chara had been in contact with, after all. That left the orange cat and maybe the cook, but she’d have a heck of a time getting to that guy. When Neil had given them their floats and she’d told him to keep the change as a tip, he happily bounded off to take care of some other customers. Now, how the heck was she supposed to get that guy’s attention when he was standing around, slumped over like someone had just shit in his Corn Flakes? She contemplated flagging him down when smiling at him didn’t work, but she wasn’t sure if he didn’t see her or if he was actively avoiding coming over. Annoyance started to creep up on her, but before she could think of anything else, Sans picked up a nearby ashtray with his magic and threw it at the soda jerk, hitting him squarely in the back of the head. The bottom of the light metal tray made an audible _thunk_ and he pitched forward with a surprised yelp.

The guy stopped dead in his tracks.

Slowly turned around, a dark, rage-filled glare marring his features.

He stomped towards Frisk with an irritated look on his face and she was belatedly aware that Sans was pointing his finger at her as if to blame her for the ashtray striking him. Her jaw dropped open in aghast indignation, but the soda jerk had already reached them before she could say anything. He stood behind the counter, scowling at her for a moment before his demeanor suddenly changed. “Huh? You again? Whaddaya want this time?” He asked, halfway between surprised and looking as if he were going to burst a blood vessel. Caught off guard for only a moment, she gathered her wits about her and gave her best Chara impersonation once again. “I was just wondering if you had any more information for me. Any news on the slimeballs I’m after?” She asked, shifting her eyes around the room and checking for anyone listening in, despite knowing Sans and Papyrus had that covered. 

His name tag showed the name Beufort, but it was crossed out and underneath it ‘Burgerpants’ was written in permanent marker. His eyes glanced around as well, and when he was satisfied that no one was being too nosey, he grinned. “Well, we already went over the gun smuggling that The Salvation was doing to wipe out The Dead Eyes. Word on the street is, they’re being pitted against each other by the Calzotti Famiglia. Those guys are probably hoping they’ll wipe each other out. If they do, what d’ya think will happen?” He asked, taking a long drag of his cigarette before blowing a smoke ring into the air. A loud _clack_ sounded again, and she heard the cook grunt out for a pickup. Beufort, or Burgerpants as he was apparently known, walked off to grab the plate unceremoniously and shuffle over to the customer that had ordered it, giving him a strange and obviously forced smile as he told them to ‘have a sparktacular day’. It was something she had heard Neil say as well, but the rabbit had seemed much more… excited to say it. 

Frisk was vaguely aware that Sans tensed up next to her momentarily and she couldn’t blame him. If two of the five gangs completely wiped each other out, the balance of power would shift and the three remaining gangs would acquire more territory. The skeleton next to her looked as if he was formulating some kind of plan in his head, but she wasn’t quite sure if he’d let her in on it. Perhaps it was Magnolia business. If so, she would undoubtedly be kept in the dark. And if she wasn’t, she might get more than she bargained for since she was already walking a fine line. When Burgerpants had a free moment to spare, he came back over to her. “So you’re thinking there’s going to be a power struggle.” It wasn’t a question, but he grinned at her. “That’s right, little buddy. And let me give you a bit of advice. You want to make yourself scarce when that happens because that’s not gonna be pretty. Especially with you nosing around the Calzotti Famiglia’s plot to gain power.” His voice grew serious, “They’re looking for you, y’know.”

“I know. I wish things were different, but what can you do?” Frisk asked, taking a sip from her root beer float. “Well, you could go on the lam if things get too hairy. Or you could just find a safe house if you don’t have one already. Don’t forget about the one I suggested last time, you know… in the part of Ebott City where _everybody looks the same_.” Burgerpants said with an exaggerated wink to her. He waggled his fingers at her, signifying that was all the information he could give her at the moment. She slipped him a few bills and he grinned at her, “Nice doing business with you. Have a sparktacular day!” He gave her such a weird, creepy, large-toothed grin, and she felt more than a little uncomfortable. When he walked off, she turned back towards Sans and Papyrus, who were already finished with their floats. The amount of information she’d managed to obtain here might not have been much, but it was important nevertheless. 

So the Calzotti Famiglia was making a play for power, were they? If that was the case, how were they going to go about it, aside from having two rival gangs eradicate each other? She thought about it as she sipped at the melting float, pondering what the soda jerk meant. He suggested making a run for it in the event that things got out of control, but why would Chara need to leave Ebott City? It’s not like her brother was something the mafia could use to gain power… or was he? As her straw started sucking up air instead of fluid, she put the glass down on the counter and turned to leave with the skeleton brothers. Why was her brother so important to all of this craziness? As soon as they were out the door, she stopped cold as an idea struck her. Chara Dreemurr… Frisk Dreemurr… 

Those names _sure_ sounded a lot like **Asgore Dreemurr**. 

Suddenly it all made sense. Chara was in danger because he shared the same last name as the mayor of Ebott City. And if her brother was in danger, then she’d be in danger as soon as the different mafias found out her last name. Her eyes flew to Sans. She had introduced herself to him that first night with her full name and he had immediately backed off. So he had already made the connection right off the bat. But at the same time, he was still willing to help her. Did he have some connection with the mayor of the city or was he planning to use her as leverage? And was her mother going to be in danger as well? She certainly hoped not. “you’re safe with us, no matter what anyone tells ya.” Sans broke the silence, his hand reaching out to squeeze her shoulder, “so quit makin’ that face.” Realizing belatedly that her brow was furrowed with worry and her mouth was pulled into a tight frown, she forced her face into a neutral expression. Releasing a sigh, her shoulders sank a little as she tried to force the tension out of them. Was she really so easy to read? At least he was trying to be supportive, even if she wasn’t completely certain she could trust him . 

“Sorry. I was just thinking that the different mobs might try to use my brother and me against the mayor.” Frisk said quietly as they made their way back to the Buick and took their seats, “We've never met Asgore. Our mother left him before she adopted us, but she never bothered changing her last name. I just hope that she’s not in danger as well.” They were silent for several minutes as the sound of the engine roared to life, the car cruising along the streets as the sun began to set. After a while, Papyrus broke the silence. “UM, CORRECT ME IF I’M WRONG, BUT DON’T YOU THINK YOUR BROTHER WOULD HAVE CONTACTED YOUR MOTHER AND TOLD HER TO MOVE TO A SAFE LOCATION?” The lanky mobster asked her, looking into the rear view mirror to see her. Now that she thought about it, her mother had yet to call her since Chara had gone missing. “He might have.” She felt her spirits lift a little, “Normally, she calls us every other day at least, but I haven’t heard a peep from her in about a week.” 

Or she could already have been captured.

But Frisk wasn’t going to entertain morbid thoughts like that, not when she had work to do. And her workload seemed to be growing bigger, but she wasn’t alone. It wasn’t clear what the skeleton brothers’ intentions were, but she would deal with that when the time came. At worst, they could use her to find Chara and her mother, then kill all three of them or use them against Asgore somehow. At best, they might prove to be valuable, trustworthy allies, sticking with her through thick and thin. Only time would tell for certain. For now, it seemed like she was sticking her neck out a little too much, but taking a risk was the only option she had right now and hopefully everything would turn out for the best.

As she sat in the back seat of the Sedan, she contemplated what Burgerpants had said to her. How could her family be of any use against the mayor of Ebott City? They had never met him; they weren’t even his real children! And how could the Calzotti Famiglia gain power from that? Unless it was real estate they were after. That was the most likely option. If they blackmailed Asgore into granting them large plots of prime real estate in the city, their power would spread and grow. The more territory they controlled, the easier it would be to muscle out the other two remaining rival mobs and rule the people from the shadows. Humans and monsters alike would be controlled by fear and violence. It would be utter chaos. 

They had to be stopped.

The Buick slowed to a stop, pulling Frisk from her thoughts and drew her attention to their last stop of the day. The detective’s office – home. But it wasn’t safe for her to stay here anymore. She looked to the monsters in the front seat and was met with their grinning faces. “we thought ya might like to grab a few things before shackin’ up with a couple o’ bachelors, sweetheart.” Sans offered, and got out of the car, opening the door for her. Once she was out, they were joined by Papyrus and the three of them walked up the stairs. “OF COURSE! WE WANT YOU TO BE AS COMFORTABLE AS POSSIBLE WHILE YOU STAY WITH US, SO PLEASE DON’T HESITATE TO BRING ANYTHING YOU MIGHT NEED.” He said as he watched her unlock the door to the office. And for the first time all day, her smile was genuine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapters are now being beta read by ShiningWings, which is great because my husband could use the break. He still helps with ideas and dialog suggestion though, and by generally being awesome. <3


	9. Taking Care of Business

### Chapter Nine: Taking Care of Business

The office was just as she had left it yesterday afternoon – not even a single piece of paper had been moved from her desk. Papyrus had been extra careful not to disturb anything when searching for her. First things first, though. Frisk went straight back to her bedroom and pulled her suitcases out from her closet and set them on her bed, opening them. Then she started grabbing stacks of her folded clothes from the dresser and fitting them into the largest suitcase. She didn’t have an awful lot, but she placed every article of clothing she owned in there, including her trusty sanitary belt. Once the suitcase was full, she closed it up, then moved to the bathroom with a smaller one and deposited her toiletries inside, not wanting to forget the sanitary napkins she’d procured. There was no way the skeleton brothers were going to have them at their place if she didn’t bring them. At least she wouldn’t have to deal with Sans getting touchy-feely with her when she was on the rag. It probably would be enough to repel him for the entire time Mother Nature visited her, if not altogether.

She wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

Nevertheless, everything she needed was packed neatly into the smaller suitcase and closed away. Frisk brought the two suitcases out to the main office area and set them on the floor, then went to retrieve her final suitcase from her room. Bringing it out, she set it on the desk, unlocked the drawer on the filing cabinet and started moving the files into the suitcase. Her brother would have to forgive her for taking top secret criminal files with her to a mobster residence, but she couldn’t leave them here for someone else to get their greasy mitts on. Besides, if she was going to be working on a case like this, she was going to need every resource available. Sure, it was risky to take the files. Sans and Papyrus could nab them from her and use them for their own purposes, but they could just as easily destroy the filing cabinet and steal them anyway – now that they knew about the files. Better to take what she needed now and save herself the headache. 

When all her things were packed, she went into the kitchen and filled several bags with perishable foods. The length of her stay with the skeleton brothers was uncertain, so she grabbed as much food as she could, unwilling to return home to a refrigerator packed with mold. Sans was watching her from the doorway of the kitchen with an amused look on his face. “you want me to get the kitchen sink, too?” He asked cheekily, taking some of the loaded bags. A little pink tongue poked out at him, but she simply shrugged and picked up the two remaining bags on the table. “I don’t know about monster food, but human food can spoil if it’s left sitting around for a long time.” She told him as they moved to the main office area, then took the food out to the Buick where Papyrus was loading her luggage into the trunk. Sans made a face at the idea of moldy food, but didn’t voice any opinions on it. Papyrus, on the other hand, didn’t hold back. “YOU SHOULD NEVER EAT MOLDY FOOD, MISS FRISK! YOU COULD GET SICK AND DIE, AND THEN WHO _ELSE_ WOULD PUT UP WITH MY BROTHER?”

Frisk burst out laughing at the unexpected jab, trying unsuccessfully to disguise it as a cough. The younger skeleton nudged his shorter brother in the ribs with his elbow, making an “EH, EHHH?” noise at Sans and wiggling his brow bones. The older skeleton just shook his head and chuckled. “all right, ya got me, ya bonehead. now let’s blow before some dope shows up and gums everything up on us.” He motioned towards the open doorway and asked, “got everything?” She held up a single slim finger and dashed back into the office, heading straight over to the shelf. Plucking the family portrait off the shelf, she hugged it to her chest, then left the office, locking the door behind her. She hurried down the steps and into the Buick, where the brothers were already waiting for her. As soon as she was situated in the back seat comfortably, they drove away from the office that had been Frisk’s home for a little over a year now. Her heart sank a little as the building disappeared into the distance, but it was for the best. 

When the three of them eventually returned to the skeleton brothers’ home, they carried in all of her belongings and the food she’d packed. Once everyone was inside, her suitcases were deposited in the living room and Papyrus carried the bags of food into the kitchen. While he was putting the food away, Sans bent and grabbed her two larger suitcases and hefted them up the stairs. Not wanting to get left behind, she quickly scampered up after him, carrying up her bag of toiletries. A frown of confusion curved her mouth downward as he reached the top of the stairs. Where was he going with her baggage? There were two bedrooms and a bathroom upstairs, she hadn’t exactly seen any guest rooms anywhere either. He carried them into his room without hesitating and she followed cautiously. It was _far_ from acceptable behavior for him to do what she thought he might do. But he surprised her again when he set her bags down and turned to her.

“i want ya to make yourself comfortable here, so go ahead and put your clothes in the drawers or closet next to mine.” He said, gesturing languidly around the room, “and if you need anything, i’ll be on the couch downstairs.” Frisk openly gaped at him in surprise. That hadn’t been what she was expecting from him at all. “You’re letting me stay in your room while you sleep on the couch downstairs? Why?” She asked, lifting a questioning eyebrow. “why wouldn’t i? what kinda guy lets a lady sleep on a lumpy old couch while he gets to sleep in a comfortable bed?” Sans countered, “besides, you’d be safer up here if anyone decided to bust in through the front door.” That was certainly true, she had to admit, if someone hostile entered the house, they’d most likely go through the front door, or perhaps a window on the lower floor. Sans could wake up and take care of them instantly by pinning them with his magic… or by skewering them until they resembled a morbid pin cushion.

Far a mobster, he was being quite a gentleman. Had he displayed this sort of behavior every time they had met, she might have had a hard time believing him to be a dangerous criminal. She felt a little bad about him giving up his personal space for her, but assumed he was putting his best foot forward and was doing this as a way to wordlessly show her that he was going to support her like a real partner. “Well, thank you. I really appreciate it, Sans.” Frisk said warmly, smiling at him. His eye sockets widened momentarily and he looked away with a small smile. “yeah, well… i just want you to be comfortable here and let you know that paps and i have your back, no matter what. we’ll keep you safe as best we can and help you find your brother, okay? you just gotta trust us. neither of us wants you dead.” He said, lifting a hand to lightly graze his bony fingers over her cheek, “especially me.” With that, he winked at her and headed downstairs, leaving her to her thoughts.

 _Either there’s far more to Sans than meets the eye, or he’s one heck of a smooth operator,_ She thought to herself as she opened up her suitcase and began unpacking. She went about placing her casual clothing in the drawers alongside his clothing and hung her formalwear up in his closet. She didn’t mind taking his suggestion, considering he was kind enough to offer his bedroom for her personal use. If she wanted to, she could probably find some hidden meaning in his actions, but today had been a long enough day that she was more than willing to just let it go and get on with more important matters. As she finished putting her clothing away, she decided to join the skeleton brothers downstairs, leaving her toiletries in the small case to be unpacked later. The suitcase full of criminal files would remain in the room for now as well and would be retrieved when it was time to come up with a plan of action. 

Once she was down the stairs, the wonderful scent of spaghetti met her nose. Her stomach growled in response as the three of them had been busy for most of the day. Making her way into the kitchen, she found Papyrus at the stove with a couple pots steaming before him. “AH, MISS FRISK! YOU’RE RIGHT IN TIME FOR MY FAMOUS SPAGHETTI DINNER! PLEASE HAVE A SEAT AT THE TABLE AND READY YOUR TASTEBUDS FOR THE EXPERIENCE OF A LIFETIME!” The tall skeleton said proudly, his chest puffed out as he drained the noodles. Eagerly, she joined Sans at the table, taking her seat from this morning. She smiled over at the short skeleton and he smiled back. Almost apologetically. There was no time to think about the strange look as Papyrus returned with three plates piled high with spaghetti and set one down for her, one for Sans, and one for himself. 

He looked positively ecstatic as she picked up her fork. It looked delicious. Her eyes darted between each brother to find they were both watching her expectantly. “I REALLY HOPE YOU ENJOY MY PASTA, MISS FRISK, I SLAVED OVER IT TO MAKE IT JUST RIGHT!” Papyrus gushed as he waited almost impatiently for her to take the first bite. Spinning her fork in the noodles, she pulled the forkful from the pile, blew on it until she was certain her mouth wouldn’t be burned and stuck it into her mouth, chewing with great enthusiasm. Suddenly, she stopped. The taste was indescribable. Her face scrunched up reflexively and her eyes watered a little. The large mobster gasped in delight and practically burst with happiness. “THAT EXPRESSION! OH, SUCH PASSION! CAN IT BE THAT YOU LIKE MY SPAGHETTI SO MUCH THAT IT MOVED YOU TO TEARS?!” His question was so absurd and yet so heartfelt that she couldn’t bring herself to spit out the noodles and crush his dreams. With great effort, she not only nodded, she managed to chew and swallow the mouthful she’d taken. He practically squealed with glee, his cheekbones tinged with orange as he happily bellowed, “ANOTHER VICTORY FOR THE GREAT PAPYRUS!!” 

_One bite down, a whole plate to go._ Frisk thought to herself morbidly, but she found the large skeleton’s elation more than a little adorable. Again, she wondered how he had become part of the monster mafia. He could just as easily have gotten an honest job as a police officer or store clerk or… or _something_ that didn’t involve breaking the law. He was munching happily on his own spaghetti, seemingly oblivious to how terrible it actually tasted . She couldn’t tell if he was honestly enjoying his food or if his taste buds were on permanent vacation. The tomatoes he had used were watery and not completely cooked all the way, there were traces of leaves and stems, and she was certain he had neglected to wash any of the vegetables he’d used in the sauce. The unmistakable taste of garden soil floated around in her mouth even after swallowing. At least she could honestly say she was getting her minerals. And the whole dish seemed as if the younger skeleton had dumped a cup of molasses into it. Sans seemed to be eating the spaghetti as well, though he looked as if he was pointedly ignoring the taste. He did, however, look grateful that she was kind enough not to tell his brother how awful it was. Resigned to her fate and vowing to ask to join in Papyrus’s cooking sessions, Frisk willed herself to finish the dinner that had been so lovingly crafted for her. 

Once dinner was over, she felt much better about staying with the two brothers. Though she politely declined seconds this time, she praised Papyrus for his cooking skills and he glowed with joy. He cleaned up the table and proceeded to wash the dishes. Sans, on the other hand, did not. Rather, he was leaning towards her with a no-nonsense look on his face. “so, i was thinkin’ you could lay low for a while. maybe help out at grillby’s and build rapport with the regulars while paps and i do a little recon for ya. might pick up something of value while you’re there, and ol’ grillbz could use the help.” He suggested, eyeing her carefully. She thought about it for a few moments. Although she wouldn’t be able to aggressively look for clues to Chara’s whereabouts, she would at least be safe if she posed as a waitress at Grillby’s. And according to Sans, build up good standing with more Magnolia members. It was highly doubtful that he was selling out his fellow members, but the idea of them possibly having information that might help her was an opportunity she would be foolish to refuse. Was it possible that the Dog Squad had clues of any importance? Perhaps, but she wouldn’t find out unless she went through with Sans’s suggestion. 

“All right then, it’s worth a shot.” Frisk agreed. All things considered, it would be a great advantage to have the two of them assisting in her endeavors, particularly if they could do it while she was in disguise. It was nearly time for her to return to the restaurant anyway, if she was to keep up the act of being “Steve”. Perhaps she should get a jump start on things. “I can start working there tomorrow, if it helps. At least until we find out something big.” Frisk told him. “PERHAPS IF YOU START WORKING THERE, IT WILL BECOME A RESPECTABLE PLACE.” Papyrus chimed in, not attempting to hide his distaste for the establishment. Sans simply chuckled to himself and rested his head on his hand, slouching against the table. “well, seems like we’ve all got a busy day tomorrow,” He said, “best get some shut eye while we can. we’ve got business to take care of.” 

It was mid afternoon when the skeleton brothers had dropped Frisk off at Grillby’s dressed once more in the waitress uniform she had donned the other night. The fire elemental was thrilled to see her return, if his brightly burning countenance was anything to go by. He was in high spirits as he readied the kitchen for the dinner rush. Now that he had his waitress back, his job would be much easier. A fiery hand clapped onto her shoulder in an amicable way as he welcomed her through the bar’s back door. “I really appreciate you comin’ back to work, and I’m impressed that you’re here so early. It’s good to have you back, Steve, my boy!” He was saying as he led her into the kitchen and retrieved a price list from a drawer. “Girl.” She corrected him before she could stop herself. He looked at her for a moment and tilted his head, staring at her. Then he shrugged. “Right. Girl, of course. Sorry about that. Working with humans is still a little new for me, so you’ll have to forgive me if I have a few slip-ups here and there.” The flame man patted the shoulder he had been gripping and she was surprised, but silently grateful, that she didn’t burst into a fiery inferno from his touch.

Frisk shrugged it off, not really minding all that much. So long as she was undercover, it wasn’t that big of a deal what anyone thought of her. She simply had to blend into the scenery and not cause any problems. Grillby went over the price list with her in case she had forgotten it. She wondered if this Steve fellow hadn’t worked here for very long or perhaps the fire elemental thought that his former human employee would have forgotten the prices on purpose. Perhaps he had simply been somewhat inept when it came to remembering important things. Thankfully, Frisk had no such problem. She would easily be able to remember the pricing on the drinks as they had mostly been grouped together by the type of drink. Non-alcoholic drinks were obviously the cheapest, followed closely by draft beer. Wine and liquor were more expensive. She wasn’t certain if her new boss realized that she wasn’t twenty one, but if he did, he didn’t say anything. Perhaps he simply didn’t care considering this place seemed to be a hangout for the Magnolias. It seemed that Grillby would be making the drinks, at least for now, and for that she was grateful. She didn’t know if she could handle that kind of pressure just yet. 

Next, he produced a menu for her to study and memorize. It was a good thing Sans and Papyrus had dropped her off early. Now she had plenty of time to learn how to do her temporary job. As she was carefully going over the menu items and committing them to memory, she heard Grillby firing up the stove and start cooking something. A brown brow lifted in curiosity as she turned her head to glance at him. What was he doing? The bar wasn’t set to open until six o’ clock and there were no customers to serve. Perhaps he was making himself something to eat. As she went back to reading over the menu, she heard the distinct sound of two large hamburger patties hit the surface of the cooking range and start to sizzle. She could hear him moving around the cooking area and shove several peeled potatoes through a slicer, drop them into a wire basket, and then drop the wire basket into a fresh bin of hot frying oil. The sizzling floated through the air and danced along her eardrums, making her stomach growl in response. 

Her lunch had been a little less than adequate since Papyrus had insisted on making it for her. Turns out that the majority of his cooking was less than optimal, but thankfully it was nearly impossible for him to ruin breakfast. She was their guest and he wanted to make her feel as welcome as possible, so he had ushered her away from the stove and had served her some strange pasta amalgamation for lunch. How in the world Sans could eat his younger brother’s cooking without flinching she might never know. Unless his taste buds had been dulled from smoking, that is. If that were the case, she supposed she couldn’t fault him. He seemed to care a great deal for his younger brother. The two of them made a great team and she wondered off-handedly how long they’d had to rely on one another. Their brotherly banter and shenanigans belied a strong bond and in a way it reminded her of the bond she shared with her own brother. _Chara, where are you?_ She wondered silently, her eyes still locked on the menu she was holding. But she was too deep in thought for the printed words to register. 

A plate with a large burger and fries piled high appeared before her, hovering just over the menu. It was enough to snap her out of her thoughts and make her look up at Grillby, who was holding a plate of his own. “Here ya go, kid. Eat up, you’re gonna need it for tonight.” The fire elemental stated plainly as he took a seat on the counter and started digging into his own food. Frisk smiled at him and thanked him as she took a seat nearby and ravenously attacked the huge hamburger. It was hot, it was greasy and it was delicious. There was nothing quite like sinking her teeth into the thick patty, piled high with cheese, lettuce, caramelized onions, a thick slice of tomato, a fried egg and some mayo. The bun was toasted and still warm, complementing the mouthful of flavors and the whole experience was nearly enough to blow her mind. Her eyes were glistening with awe as she gazed upon Grillby. “Thank you so much!” She said around the mouthful of food. It was so good she nearly cried. 

Grillby clearly was soaking up every ounce of her reaction. Of course his food was amazing; nearly every monster in Ebott City would come to his establishment for a taste of his culinary genius back before prohibition threw a monkey wrench into everything. Fewer people came in on a regular basis nowadays, but the place was always busy nevertheless. This new girl was certainly about to find out just how full her hands were going to be, and quickly, but for now she could afford to relax and enjoy the meal he’d made for her. And enjoy it she did. Not one speck of food remained on her plate when she was finished and she, gratified, relaxed a bit more in his presence. When he was finished with his own meal, he took the plates and set them in the sink for his dish washer to take care of when the young man was to arrive. He led her out into the bar area to the cash register and showed her how to operate it, then showed her where each liquor bottle should go, followed by the restocking room for when the bar needed a new bottle of liquor. He gave her a key to the room, should she need to do any restocking while he was busy mixing drinks or cooking food. 

_So… he knows that I’m not really Steve, but he’s still keeping up the act. Is it for my sake or does he really just need the extra employee?_ Frisk found herself wondering. It was fine with her if he was going to keep up appearances and let her work here. As long as the fire man didn’t ask her any personal questions, he could pretend she’d been his employee for as long as he wanted. She turned to him and caught him looking at her intently. She smiled up at him knowingly and he paused for a moment, no doubt realizing the jig was up, but since she hadn’t run off he simply nodded to her. “You may work here as long as you need to.” His voice was kept low, in case his dish washer decided to arrive at work early, “We’ll keep you safe as long as you’re here. No questions, no problems. As long as you keep up on your work, no one will bother you while you’re here.” She stood up straight and nodded to him with great enthusiasm. “I won’t let you down, sir!” She said, feeling herself become filled with determination. His chuckle was akin to crackling. “Not ‘sir’. Just Grillby.” 

On the other side of town a black Buick sat outside a large, imposing building in the Irish district. It was currently unoccupied as its owners were inside with a gift for the men inside the building. Several high ranking members of The Dead Eyes were meeting with two familiar skeletal mobsters. A small stack of crates sat nearby as the two groups discussed the latest business. A somewhat thickly built man stood forward from the group of human men behind him. His curly red hair was cropped short and was almost completely hidden under his hat; his eyebrows were thick and heavy over his blue eyes. There were several men behind him, some burly, others not so much. Each and every pair of eyes was on the two Magnolia members and for several tense moments, nobody moved. Finally, the thickly built man strode forward towards them with purpose. This man was Pol O’Hara, the underboss of The Dead Eyes, and he was known for his explosive anger. Thankfully, he seemed more cautious than angry and Sans could use that to his advantage. 

“So to what do we owe the pleasure of a visit from the Magnolias?” His voice was gruff, mirroring his attitude. Papyrus and Sans looked at each other, then looked back to O’Hara. “we heard that there’s gonna be an attack on you guys.” Sans began casually, “the salvation are set to fill you guys fulla lead until every last one of you give up the ghost. we caught ‘em smugglin’ in these crates of tommy guns and thought we might share the wealth. y’know, even the odds a little bit… if you’re interested, that is.” The men behind O’Hara exchanged worried glances at the prospect of a rival gang specifically coming after them. The murmurs and sounds of unrest began quietly at first, and then grew louder with each passing moment. Papyrus stood silently, his dark eye sockets taking in each and every detail of nervous chattering and shifting. He tapped the top of a nearby crate, his skeletal phalanges drumming loudly on the wood. The noise mixed with the heightening unease. 

Finally, O’Hara had heard enough. “Ah, shut yer heads, ya lousy buncha bastards!” The man shouted, his voice echoing throughout the building. The tone of his voice silenced his underlings into submission and they stood as quietly as the dead. Pinching the bridge of his nose between his eyebrows, he huffed in annoyance, then once again met Sans’s gaze. “A’right, fine. I get what yer sayin’. How much do we owe ya for the bean shooters?” He asked the shorter skeleton. Sans had taken out a cigar in the chaos and had lit it, inhaling deeply and blowing out a smoke ring from his right eye socket. He was quiet for a moment, contemplating. When he eventually answered , it was to the surprise of every Dead Eyes member present. “ya don’t owe us a thing.” He said, “just protect yourselves and take out those jerks. and remember, you’re more than welcome to come to us if you need help.”

When the brothers had finally made their departure, they left without a word to each other or to anyone else. They had simply climbed into the Buick and drove away in silence until they were out of the Dead Eyes’s territory. Once they were far enough away from prying eyes and ears, Papyrus finally spoke. “SANS, ARE WE CERTAIN THAT GIVING A RIVAL MAFIA THOSE SUBMACHINE GUNS WAS A GOOD IDEA?” He asked, as he maneuvered the Sedan around a bend in the street. His brother simply shrugged as he enjoyed his cigar. “heh, not a clue, paps.” Sans answered, not bothered in the slightest. Papyrus was not about to be dissuaded, however. “BUT IF THE DEAD EYES GO HEAD TO HEAD WITH THE SALVATION AND EACH SIDE HAS TOMMY GUNS, THEY’LL COMPLETELY OBLITERATE EACH OTHER!” The taller skeleton argued as the car sped through the night. “yeah, i guess that’s all part of the plan.” Sans said simply, “i’m just followin’ orders.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the ending is vague on purpose. See you all next week! :)


	10. Everyone's A Pervert

### Chapter Ten: Everyone's A Pervert

It was a damn good thing Frisk was an active, somewhat athletic young woman, because acting as a waitress in a speakeasy was no easy task. Particularly when the speakeasy in question was packed nearly to capacity with gangsters, thugs and ne’er-do-wells. The Dog Squad crowded around the table she had seen them occupy the last time she’d been in the vicinity. The lot of them were rather akin to a shining beacon of familiarity in a sea of suits and she was never so relieved to see a group of friendly faces. The place was jam packed with people squeezed in like a bunch of sardines – which, in the case of a few guys sporting gills as they lounged at the bar, was fairly accurate. She had a heck of a time making her way through the boisterous throng at first, shuffling along this way and that as she tried to find a clear path. After a few hours of hauling trays piled with food, she learned how to successfully thread through the crowd like a pro.

There was a massive wolf at the front entrance, standing with his arms crossed over his broad chest. His biceps bulged as he clenched and unclenched his arms, waiting for another knock at the door. That muscle-headed bruiser at the ready was the only way for John Q. Public to enter Grillby’s and if some poor schmuck tried to sneak past him without giving him the password, they would find themselves with a fewer number of teeth. Luckily, Frisk wasn’t the only one carrying trays of food and drink to hungry mobsters. Had that been the case, she might have passed out from exhaustion long before the night was through. 

There was a young monster lad who appeared to be roughly her age, wearing a striped shirt under his uniform’s button up dress shirt and carrying trays atop his head and tail. The boy had no arms, but he was excellent nonetheless. He’d called himself Monster Kid, but told her that she could call him M.K. for short. Luckily for him, he had energy to spare and he made good use of it, zipping around people before they even realized they were in his way. He was also chatty… almost excessively so. That might prove useful, so long as he had information that could be particularly helpful in finding her brother. Practically dominating any conversation that he was apt to start at a moment’s notice, Monster Kid might just prove to be a wealth of information. On the other hand, he might simply be nothing more than a cheerful chatterbox that toed the line between endearing and obnoxious. Undoubtedly, she would have to hide her speech and actions from him, lest a foolish mistake slip from between her lips.

There was also another youth, this one both a lady and a mouse. June was approximately Frisk’s age, height and perhaps just a little bit squishier in the stomach and chest region. Well… perhaps she was _much_ more impressive in the chest region. Her fur was short and light brown and she wore a lightweight striped scarf with her uniform. She wasn’t as speedy delivering the trays of food and drink as her reptilian coworker, but she was sweet as pie to the customers and was tipped very well. Although there were many a gangster who let their gaze linger a hair too long on her, not a single one let even the tiniest lewd comment slip out. The men were perfect gentlemen around her, praising her sunny and kind personality instead of the bounteous assets she had. Her skirt was a bit higher then Frisk wore hers, and the shirt she wore seemed almost as if it were about to burst, yet there was no filthy talk when she was nearby. It was as fantastic as it was baffling. 

When there was a moment to spare, she pulled June aside and asked her why none of the customers had made a pass at her. Frisk, despite being the only human in a building chock full of monsters had been getting hit on all night long. At least Sans hadn’t uttered some of the heinous lines she had heard tonight. She’s heard everything from ‘When do you get off tonight and would you like help getting off?’ to ‘Let’s do a little math. We’ll add a bed, subtract our clothes, divide your legs and multiply!’ She was getting fed up with it. One less than creative beer-swilling patron simply asked her if she wanted to be part of a threesome, and a rather nicely dressed mobster informed her that he could help her discover her inner talent in the backseat of his Cadillac. Upon hearing about the woes of the human girl, June smiled sympathetically at her. “See this striped scarf I’m wearing?” She simply asked, pointing to it. 

Raising an eyebrow in confusion at the mouse girl, prompting her to elaborate. “M.K. and I tend to avoid getting unsavory remarks because we wear striped clothing. Striped clothing in monster society signifies children and teenagers. Basically, it’s a visual cue that he and I are underage and cannot partake in ‘adult activities’. You get what I’m saying?” June asked her, leaning her head towards her new gal pal like she’d just divulged a secret tip, “You’re not wearing stripes with your uniform, so you’re considered a legal, consenting adult. That’s why these joes are acting like a bunch of wolves surrounding a sheep. A single girl in these parts won’t be lonely long, Stevie, hun.” Taking a quick glance around, she noticed there were still several pairs of eyes on her. Could that really be true? Was her lack of striped clothing really an advertisement? She sure as hell hoped not. Gathering information while laying low was going to be impossible if she had to deal with a bunch of guys slobbering over her.

”That’s not exactly a human thing, since it’s often easier to tell ages with us. I don’t suppose I can _start_ wearing stripes now, could I?” Frisk asked her, hoping it was that easy. “If you do, it would only fool new customers. Everyone here already knows you’re an adult and they’re not likely to forget Grillby’s only human employee.” The mouse girl said. Grillby’s voice came from the kitchen and alerted the two girls that there were orders to be delivered. June excused herself to attend to her tables and Frisk grabbed two trays of orders to take to the far corner of the bar. Her mind was buzzing with all of the offers she had received tonight and it made her feel gross. How could people say that to a complete stranger? Did they really think that just because she worked in a speakeasy and was of legal age to consent to sex, that she actually would do so with people she’d met that night? She wasn’t so easy! 

Memories of the night she’d first snuck into the MTT Resort and dressed as a cigarette girl bubbled to the surface of her thoughts. Particularly, the memories of Sans coming onto her in the ladies changing room. _That was **not my fault**!_ , her mind screamed to the mental images. She set the food down in front of the people who had ordered it and asked if they needed anything else. When the men had wiggled their eyebrows at her lewdly, she simply smiled and excused herself to return to the safety of the kitchen. Her fiery employer was nearly finished flame broiling the next set of orders and Frisk opened her mouth before she could stop herself. “Excuse me, boss? Could you help me with a problem I’m having?” She asked in an embarrassed voice. His attention was instantly on her. “Has a fight broken out?” He immediately asked, and she shook her head, “Shattered glass? Drunken sods vomiting on the floor?” When none of these were the cause of her embarrassment, he asked her what was wrong.

“W-well, you see… I’ve gotten quite a few, um, offers for some favors…” She trailed off, her cheeks reddening in humiliation at the idea of repeating any of the crude offers to the flame elemental. He studied her for a moment before responding. “Not into monster cock?” He asked bluntly. Frisk’s jaw dropped so fast that she thought it might hit the floor. She stammered and spluttered so much that by the time the trays were stacked with dishes of food, Monster Kid dashed in and swooped them up. He left, balancing one on his head and the other on his tail, oblivious to the human’s discomfort. Grillby, on the other hand, looked rather amused. “Okay, maybe you’re into it, but not with the guys out there. Am I right?” He tried again, to her absolute horror. She paled considerably as the blood drained from her face. “I… I-I’ve never-!” Her eyes were wide and she was flabbergasted that Grillby would suggest such a thing. Her mother didn’t raise a tramp!

Realization dawned on good ol’ Grillby at that moment and he held his hands up in mock surrender. “Oh, I’m terribly sorry! It just hit me. You’re still a virgin, aren’t you?” He asked, softly hitting himself in the side of the head as if to chastise himself for not recognizing it sooner. She gave him a sour look that he took as an affirmation and rolled his sleeves up to his elbows. “Okay, so how many of these… offers did you get?” He asked, mentally preparing himself to have a nice little chat with one or two patrons. That wouldn’t be too bad. He could still do a heck of a business if it were a small problem. “At least twenty.” Frisk said quietly, her head lowering in shame. He balked at that. She had gotten more than twenty offers for sex?! Was it because she was a human? Granted, there was no specific law against humans and monsters intermingling in the streets or in the sheets, but he’d never heard of an inter-racial couple like that happening before. 

He wondered to himself if it was because bedding a human could be considered exotic to monsters. Whatever the reason, it was making her uncomfortable and if he did nothing to help her, she might quit working for him. She was proving to be a good worker thus far, so he’d prefer to avoid that option. He also didn’t want to lose Magnolia business, as his restaurant was a hotspot for the mob. Decisions like this often put him between a rock and a hard place. Perhaps he could offer her some advice. “Well, are you spoken for?” He asked, surprising her. “No, I’m not married.” She replied honestly. He put a burning hand to his chin. “Going steady with a boyfriend or girlfriend?” Grillby tried again, but she still shook her head. “How about a crush? Is there someone you’re sweet on?” It almost sounded like he was getting desperate for her to give him some form of affirmation. It would make giving her advice a whole lot easier for him.

Someone she was sweet on?

Memories of Sans rushed forth inside her head. The distinct feeling of his teeth pressed gently to her knuckles in a pseudo-kiss as his magic dance over the skin. Her dream of him coming into her bedroom and exploring her body in the darkness of the night. His form pressing her against the office door late at night as he tugged her shirt open and fondled her mercilessly. Those bony fingers of his dancing across her sensitive flesh, that long blue tongue that left her nerves buzzing as if they’d been electrocuted. He was pushy, yet he was charming at the same time. His puns were terrible but they still made her laugh. The sincerity of him wanting her safety. And that look of unadulterated desire in his eye sockets when he was pursuing her made her blood dance with excitement. For a skeleton, he certainly knew how to push her buttons in all the right ways. He was too smart for his own good. Perhaps he was too smart for _her_ own good. They were from two different worlds, a girl on the side of justice and a man from the criminal underground. They were two different races, human and monster, but did that any of that really matter when it came to the passionate attraction they felt in each others presence? Probably, but he didn’t seem to care at least. Should she be worried about being attracted to a skeleton mobster? Yes. Most definitely. Hell, she was possibly sick in the head. 

“Nope! Nobody like that, no sir.” Frisk said a little too quickly, feeling the heat radiating from her cheeks. The fire elemental crossed his arms and stared at her in what she could only guess was an unimpressed look. “Okay, okay. I might have a few feelings for a certain someone… b-but I’m not sure how romantic those feelings might be!” She corrected nervously. How could she be certain that these feelings were her own when Sans was the one in question? Sure, he could act like a gentleman when it really counted, but was he honestly attracted to her or did he have his own agenda? She had always heard of love at first sight, but did it really exist outside of stories and fairy tales? There were so many questions, too many for her to go rushing into his arms without thinking it through first. 

Clearly, Sans was attracted to her despite their physical differences. He had made that abundantly clear at every possible opportunity. But his attraction wasn’t completely physical. His attention was on her every time she spoke, whether she was offering an opinion, searching for answers or even making small talk. Her smile, it seemed, was something he found irresistible, as if he couldn’t get enough of it. Despite frequently making her nervous and putting her on the spot, he had come to her rescue, had even _killed_ for her. Twice. And clearly, he would do it again.

Finally, the blazing man smiled. Or she assumed it was a smile. He uncrossed his arms and glowed a little brighter. “So, there’s this guy you’re sweet on,” Grillby began, ignoring the ‘maybe’ in her answer and choosing to take it as a solid ‘yes’, “Why don’t you tell him your feelings? You two can go on a few dates together, maybe decide to go steady. Or maybe you just want him to get rid of your V-card, I’m not gonna judge you. Either way, all I’m sayin’ is that if you come to work disheveled and with a hickey or two, it’ll show those other guys that you’re already taken. They’ll probably lay off after that. And you won’t get in trouble. Ol’ Grillby ain’t one to stand in the way of young love if ya know what I mean!” He said proudly as June came in with a slip of paper with three orders on it and handed it to him. Thanking her and she headed back out the door, he turned back to Frisk. “Also, there’s a guest bedroom upstairs if you guys need a place for him to deflower you. Because there’s nothing like a hot dicking!” Her boss offered enthusiastically. Certain her eyes were probably bugging out from his bold offer, Frisk politely excused herself and made for the door that led back into the bar. She had made it almost to the door when she heard Grillby call out from behind her. 

“Your parents gave you the sex talk, right?” 

\---

It was about fifteen minutes before closing time when Sans showed up and Frisk barely managed to restrain herself from rushing into his arms and begging to be taken away from her new job. It wasn’t as though it was exhausting, but she’d had enough of awkward situations for one day. Right now, even if Sans were to decide to be a filthy pervert it would _still_ be more welcome than what she had put up with tonight. Luckily for her, he had been a gentleman for the last thirty hours or so. If she was lucky, he’d continue not getting fresh with her. That was what she had wanted from that start after all, wasn’t it? She wasn’t so sure anymore. One thing she was certain of was that she was looking forward to going home. Or to the skeleton brothers’ home, to be exact. As the speakeasy was closing its doors to the ‘public’, the tips for the night were split between herself, M.K. and June. The three of them helped clean the bar alongside their boss and when it was time to lock up, Grillby pulled Frisk aside to speak privately with her. 

“So, you’re staying with Sans and his brother I take it? You remember what I said about that room upstairs, right? It still applies if you don’t want his brother to hear you two.” Grillby reminded her in a way that would’ve been helpful if she had actually _wanted_ to have the nearby skeleton pop her cherry tonight. Wait, tonight? What was she thinking? The lewdness of tonight’s customers must have gotten to her and sent her mind into the gutter. Frisk’s chocolate colored eyes widened and glanced over at the skeleton they had just been talking about. Of course, he was watching her. He gave her a cheeky wink and she hoped he hadn’t heard Grillby’s offer. If he had, and she was almost certain that was the case, then he had probably put the pieces together. He was grinning widely. He was always grinning, but she was just about at wit’s end, so she resolved not to even consider what might be on his mind right about now. 

With a quick and extremely awkward thank you to Grillby, she managed to usher Sans out of the speakeasy in a timely manner. As they walked to the Buick, he decided to speak up. “so, how was your first full night workin’ at grillby’s?” The question was nonchalant but still loaded. With only a brief bit of hesitation, she answered as they took their seats in the car with him behind the wheel and her in the passenger seat. Papyrus was nowhere in sight. “Um, it was…. interesting.” She said dismissively, “Where is Papyrus? I thought he’d be with you.” Sans shrugged as he drove back towards his house. “we spent most of the day lookin’ for leads on your brother’s whereabouts. paps likes to turn in early. he hit the sack a few hours ago. no luck on our end today, howzabout you?” He asked, turning towards her while they stopped at one of the red lights on the way home. She shook her head, “The only things that I’ve learned tonight are that stripes signify monster minors and that Grillby is willing to let me use his guest room upstairs if you and I need a place to get busy.”

The look of interest on his face was instantaneous. “what’d ya tell him?” He asked, trying and failing to sound like he wasn’t hoping she’d take him up on the offer. _Does he know that I’m not quite so knowledgeable when it comes to acts of carnal pleasure?_ Frisk mentally asked herself. She highly doubted it, but didn’t bother mentioning it. Deciding not to give in to his curiosity, she instead blew the topic off as if it wasn’t at all important. “None of your business.” She said simply, watching him in amusement as he tried to pout. Unfortunately for him, skeletons weren’t very good at pouting. He gave up and they rode the rest of the way in relative silence until they finally reached the two-story house. 

Once they were inside, Frisk decided that a shower would do wonders for her. She smelled like a mixture of burgers, beer and smoke right now and wanted to wash the scent away before it started to affect her dreams. Thanking Sans for the ride home, she bid him goodnight and made her way up the stairs and into the bathroom. It didn’t take long for her to shed her work uniform and step into a nice, hot shower. Releasing a sigh of relief and contentment, she stood under the streaming jets of water and let it soak through her thick hair and run down her body in tiny little rivers. As the water washed away the smells from the speakeasy, the white noise returned her to the night’s previous thoughts. Would a night of passion with Sans be as easy as Grillby had made it sound? Could she just bluntly ask him to give her a hickey or two to deter other monsters from making passes at her while she was trying to do her job? She tried to imagine how that would turn out. 

Once she stepped out of the shower and dried herself off, she realized that instead of grabbing a nightgown first, she’d simply made a beeline for the bathroom. With no other options, she wrapped the towel around her torso and opened the bathroom door a crack. The house was quiet and all of the lights were off, the only source of light was that of the full moon shining through the windows. Moving herself towards the railing, she cast her view downwards into the living room. Sprawled out on his back on the couch was Sans, dressed only in the partially unbuttoned shirt he had been wearing earlier, his trousers and a pair of white socks. His pinstriped jacket was slung over a nearby chair, while his vest and tie had been wadded up on the cushion. The hat he’d had on was tilted over his closed eye sockets, shielding them from view. One hand hung loosely off the side of the couch and sagged against the floor while the other rested across his torso. 

Her eyes focused on his halfway unbuttoned shirt. There was enough of an opening that she could easily make out his clavicles, his sternum and part of his ribcage. In the moon’s glow, he looked almost ethereal as he slumbered, unaware of his indecently dressed audience. Absently, she wondered what he would do if she decided to give him a taste of his own medicine and come onto _him_ for once. It would be so easy for her to slip down the stairs and… and what? She had no idea how to tease him the way he teased her. He had no skin or nerves for her to sweetly torture. Her mind flashed back to the dream of him she’d had that first night. Sans had shivered with pleasure as she lightly ran her fingers over the vertebrae of his neck. Would he like that in real life? Staring down at the sleeping skeleton, a soft sigh left her lips. He hadn’t physically pursued her in a while the way he’d done at first. Was he still interested in her the same way? It wasn’t clear, but she found that a part of herself missed his arousing touches all over her body. 

Resigned, she slipped into the room he was letting her use, feeling conflicted with herself. Reason clearly stated that she would likely be better off if she kept some distance between herself and Sans, but the memories of his hands on her made her dismiss reason tonight. Her nightgown was still hanging up in the closet where she had left it, but Frisk didn’t bother putting it on right now. Instead, she turned towards the mirror and discarded her towel, letting it drop to the floor with a muffled thud. Inspecting herself in the mirror, she wondered what it was about the female body that enticed men into lusting after them. Her waist was slim, her breasts were modest and there was a curve to her backside that suited her well, but she didn’t consider herself a bombshell. Perhaps she might not understand right now, but with the way things were going, she was bound to sooner or later. Turning away from the mirror, she walked over to the bed and slowly pulled back the covers. Never before had she gone to bed naked and this wasn’t even her bed. What would Sans think if he came in tomorrow morning and caught sight of her without any clothing on? Would it blow his mind? She kind of wanted to see that. Without a second thought, lest reason take over and save her from herself, she slipped into bed. The sensation of the cool sheets met her skin and she shivered in delight. 

It couldn’t hurt to throw caution to the wind for one night.

\---

The unmistakable feeling of teeth pressing against her lips roused her from sleep and her foggy mind barely managed to alert her that Sans was kissing her. Through her sleepy haze, she parted her lips and allowed him to slip his tongue inside. The bed slightly sank on one side of her and she realized he was supporting his weight while leaning over her. That familiar magic danced inside her mouth as his tongue fought with hers for domination. Groggily, she lifted her arms and wrapped them around him, pulling him into an embrace and deepening their kiss. She felt a skeletal hand sink into her hair as he ravished her mouth like a man of desperation. She slid her hands over the collar of his shirt, tugging the lapels open to expose more of his bony chest. Her fingers travelled gently across his clavicles to meet at the center and caress down over his sternum. His chest expanded as he drew in a shaking breath at the careful ministrations and he shuddered in delight, pulling from her mouth to move the covers from her chest. He stopped, gawking as her bare chest slipped into view, surprised at her boldness tonight. A look towards her face found her cheeks darkening in nervous embarrassment, despite her trying to show confidence. 

He was upon her in an instant, mouth hot against her skin as he leaned down to take advantage of her adventurous decision. His tongue slid wetly over one breast, warm, strong as it circled her nipple. His teeth gently closed around the nub and tugged slightly. A moan escaped her swollen lips as his other hand slid to her neglected breast kneading it and pinching the tip carefully. Her chest rose towards him of its own accord, craving more of his attention and he was all too willing to give it. A long, slow groan escaped him as she tugged on his shirt, her fingers fighting against it to find purchase against bone, rather than fabric. He broke away from her long enough to tug it over his head and chuck it to the floor. Wasting not a second more than he needed to, his greedy fingers were back on her, sliding up her sides before trailing gently back down in patterns over the sensitive skin of her ribs. 

Mirroring his touches, she ghosted her fingers along the bones of his ribs. A shiver of pleasure ran through his upper body as her digits carefully traced each rib. His lidded, lustful gaze locked with hers and she subconsciously bit her lower lip, excitement growing inside her at the realization that she could make him feel the same pleasure she felt. It was empowering and she trailed her touches agonizingly slowly over each and every bone she had access to. Sans was beginning to look as if he’d come undone if she kept up her ministrations, but before she could he took her hands in one of his and stopped her. “careful,” he warned her softly, “or else i might lose control.” This piqued her attention. She looked at him with curiosity. “You have control? Could’ve fooled me.” She teased boldly and jumped in surprise when she felt him tense over her. His soul glowed brightly within the confines of his ribcage, glittering brilliantly as if it were literally burning with passion. It looked as if it were made of flowing molten glass and it made her wonder what would happen if she touched it. Would it be as hot as it looked right now? Would it be impolite to fondle his soul? 

He didn’t give her a chance to find out. Yanking the remainder of the blankets off her with his free hand, he groaned at the discovery that not a single article of her clothing stood between him and her. He looked as if he wanted to scream right now, but whether it was in sexual frustration or complete elation she didn’t know. Whatever it was, she wouldn’t find out now, because he was beyond speaking. He released her hands and shifted between her legs and she glimpsed the very noticeable bulge in his trousers. But rather than letting it dictate the flow of the night’s events, he kneeled between her legs. She looked at him curiously as he bent down and kissed the inner thigh of one leg, then the other. It felt nice, despite her embarrassment of having Sans so close to her most private area. Still, her inquisitive mind halted any objections she might have voiced so that she could uncover the reason for this new development. Before she could wonder at his intentions, his hot, wet tongue met her opening and she yelped loudly in surprise. 

Instantly, he froze, the lights in his eyes shrinking to pinpricks as they darted in the direction of his younger brother’s room. She clasped both hands over her mouth when she realized Papyrus could’ve heard her and they waited for any sounds indicating the taller skeleton had awoken. A minute passed by without so much as a peep and Sans once again focused his attention on her. “so, uh… you might wanna keep it down. unless you’re okay with having paps burst in on us.” He said, winking at her. It was obvious he wasn’t about to stop what he’d started. Frisk’s cheeks darkened considerably at the idea of getting caught naked with Sans by his brother. _That_ would make for an awkward breakfast conversation tomorrow morning. “You’d stop so I could cover myself, right?” She asked him, her mind drifting back to the stunt he’d pulled outside the detective office door. He chuckled darkly and lowered his mouth back to her opening. “you kidding? where’s the fun in that?” 

The mixture of horror and pure, unadulterated ecstasy hit her like a ton of bricks as his tongue slid up her slit slowly. _Damn him and his magic tongue._ Frisk thought to herself as the trail of magical saliva buzzed between her folds. Her fingers curled in the sheet beneath her at the sensation. Sans took notice and gripped her hips as his tongue slid over the nub at the juncture. Her mouthed opened and she gasped in surprise, her pelvis bucking upwards to meet him eagerly as she dared glance down at him. His grin was wicked as his blue tongue swirled over the bundle of nerves mercilessly, drawing moan after moan from the human beneath him. It was completely indecent, what he was doing to her. Yet, perhaps that was what prevented her from looking away. The way his eye lights so intensely held her gaze as he ravenously devoured her at her core. 

She was a shaking, panting mess beneath him, unsure what to do other than try not to cry out loudly enough to wake everyone within earshot. Her heart was pounding, blood was rushing to her head and heat pooled in her belly. Pressure was building up inside her, coiling ever tighter until it felt almost unbearable. One of his bony hands shifted and she felt the unfamiliar feeling of one of his fingers push inside her. Without warning, the pressure from the building pleasure heat its peak and white danced before her eyes. She felt something like hot liquid between her legs and her back arced, head tilting back in a silent scream of release. Her head swam as her nerves buzzed with overstimulation. Sans was saying something to her, but she couldn’t make out what it was as her body suddenly felt exhausted and heavy. Within moments, everything around her faded into darkness as she felt herself faint into oblivion. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was told there wasn't enough smut. Thought I'd remedy that. ;)


	11. Sans, You Bastard

### Chapter Eleven: Sans, You Bastard

It had been a particularly long day for the skeleton brothers, taking care of Magnolia business and looking for leads on Chara’s location. Once they had successfully delivered Frisk to Grillby’s for her first full day of work, the two of them had driven clear to the pickup point and loaded up the submachine guns to deliver to the Dead Eyes. The two of them had help of course. The underboss herself came out to give them the orders on what to do with the weaponry. They weren’t giving the rival gang _all_ of the guns – that would be foolish – but they would give them a few crates and the sweet promise of reinforcements to back them up as they stormed the main hideout of the Salvation. The Magnolias were sending some of their toughest roscoes to add some firepower to the attack on the Salvation and she wanted to be there in person so that she could make certain there were no survivors.

Undyne was tall and well-muscled, most of her long red hair was pulled back into a high ponytail but her long bangs escaped it and hung over the black eyepatch she wore over her left eye. Her right eye was bright yellow in color, as were her huge, sharp teeth. Small cerulean scales covered the majority of her body, though most were not normally visible with the clothing she wore. Dressed in a dark pair of trousers that had probably been originally made for a man, she wore work boots and a white button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. She stood taller than Sans but shorter than Papyrus, and often grabbed hold of the younger skeleton to grind her knuckles against the top of his skull in an affectionate noogie. If her barbaric displays were any indicators of friendship, he’d hate to see what she did to her enemies. 

Nevertheless, once the two brothers had finished with delivering the submachine guns to the Dead Eyes, they began to search the city. They kept Burgerpants’s cryptic hints in mind as they drove around in the Buick for hours on end. There was a _lot_ of ground to cover in this city and not enough time to search at a leisurely pace. “the part of the city where everyone looks the same.” Sans repeated aloud to himself, mulling over the soda jerk’s words from the night before last. That certainly narrowed down the possible places, but it didn’t give them an exact location. There was an area of Ebott City where many humans of Asian descent lived… could that be it? He seriously doubted that. With Chara’s looks, there was no way he’d be able to blend in with his surroundings. Unless he didn’t venture outside at all. If he had people that were harboring him, it would be a great advantage. To find this guy, they might have to think like a human, and he’d previously heard some humans mention their opinion on certain races of humans all looking the same. It was preposterous, but there was a chance Frisk’s brother might be here, so it was up to he and his brother to find out. Heaving a sigh, he directed his brother to drive the Buick to that particular part of the city. 

Despite his mind insistently repeating over and over that this was a waste of time, he ended up following his brother around for hours on end. They had left the Buick on the side of the road and had decided to hoof it during their search. By the end of the day, they had searched what felt like every tiny nook and cranny there. When they finally returned to the car around nine thirty at night, they were both tired, hungry, and relatively annoyed that their search turned up absolutely nothing. “well… that was a bust.” Sans admitted bluntly, plopping himself into the passenger seat as his younger brother took his place at the wheel. “I CONCUR, BROTHER. THAT WHOLE THING SEEMED TO BE ONE HUGE WASTE OF TIME. I JUST HOPE MISS FRISK WON’T BE TOO UPSET THAT WE’VE FAILED.” Papyrus said, his shoulders slumping in defeat. Suddenly, as if to shake himself out of his funk, he perked back up. “NO… WE HAVEN’T FAILED. THE GREAT PAPYRUS CANNOT FAIL AT ANYTHING! IT WAS THE CLUES’ FAULT FOR NOT APPEARING FOR US WHEN THEY CLEARLY SHOULD HAVE!” 

The shorter skeleton simply smiled at his brother’s attitude and leaned back in his seat as they rode back towards their house. “ya got that right, bro. but hey, at least we know where he ain’t.” He said, trying to focus on the positive if only for his brother’s sake. “ISN’T.” Papyrus corrected, still somewhat grumpy that almost their entire day was wasted looking in the wrong place, “AND I HOPE YOU DON’T MIND LEFTOVERS, BECAUSE IT’S TOO LATE AT NIGHT FOR ME TO MAKE SOMETHING FRESH.” Spaghetti again, it seemed, but that was alright with him. At least he didn’t have to do any of the cooking. “yeah, that’s fine.” Sans said as the Buick pulled up to their two-story house, “even your leftovers are good, bro.” This seemed to cheer the taller skeleton up a bit as he parked the car and they headed into their home. 

While his brother set about preparing their leftovers, Sans paced back and forth in the living room. A place in Ebott City where everyone looked the same. What the hell was that supposed to mean? Was the soda jerk referring to everyone as humans or monsters? _Would_ Frisk’s brother be hiding out in an area populated solely by monsters? And if so, what place in the city had a population of monsters where everyone looked the same? Most of monster-kind was heavily varied, with only a very small number of individuals in each type of monster group. A large group of similar monsters would be the bunnies – there were quite a few of those – but they didn’t look exactly the same. Nor did they have a part of town where only bunnies lived. That crossed the rabbit type off his list. Perhaps the cat monster was referring to Temmie Village? Sans stopped his pacing as the idea hit him. Of course it was Temmie Village. It was one place in the whole city, and most likely the whole **world** , where everyone there literally looked the exact same. “papyrus!” Sans called, walking into the kitchen as his brother was scooping reheated spaghetti onto a couple plates, “i think i know where he could be!” 

Papyrus nearly dropped the spaghetti. “REALLY? WHERE?” 

Sans’s grinned widened. “temmie village. let’s take frisk there tomorrow before her shift.” 

\---

Once Papyrus wound down from the excitement of having a promising lead to check out, he decided to head to bed with little problem. Sans had read him a bedtime story and, despite his younger brother’s protests of him not being a baby bones anymore, Papyrus snuggled into bed and enjoyed it. Fluffy Bunny had always been his favorite and it probably always would. He looked down at his brother’s slumbering face and smiled. No matter how big Papyrus grew, no matter what kind of harsh, brutal work he had to perform for the Magnolias, he’d always be Sans’s baby brother. Reaching a skeletal hand out, he stroked his sleeping brother’s skull as he thought about their current situation. “not too much longer, paps.” He murmured quietly, his voice barely above a whisper, “things are gonna start lookin’ up for us real soon, and then we won’t have to worry about this shit anymore.” 

He sat back in his chair at the side of the bed and closed the book. Things were going to be tough for a little while, but they were definitely going to improve. He’d never wanted this life for Papyrus, but there wasn’t much of a choice. His younger, taller brother was the perfect partner in crime for him and he was loyal and reliable – two traits that were valuable in this line of work. Sure, it was a dirty job, but it was the only thing the two of them could do to get by. If only their fair city didn’t have a problem with the criminal underground they wouldn’t have to live this way, but that was just wishful thinking. After the Great War* there hadn’t been enough jobs to go around, particularly for the soldiers coming home. Their father had joined the Magnolias after the untimely passing of the woman he’d loved and Sans had been left behind to take care of Papyrus. They’d been poor at the time, but they had been happy. Unfortunately, their father had been killed in action and the Magnolias had arrived to assimilate the two young skeletons into their ranks. 

They were well provided for. Their care was a top priority and it was made certain that the two boys never went hungry. They were fed, were clothed, and they were raised to be hardened mafia hitmen. It didn’t take them long to learn to develop their magic, to summon forth bones and harness the special powers they’d inherited from their parents. The ability to bend gravity to one’s will was rare among monsters and they were the only ones to accomplish such a feat. Papyrus was also exceptionally skilled with healing magic, another skill that was uncommon in monster kind. The vast majority of monsters with healing magic tended to working in selling monster food or they’d stick to pouring their magic into crops that would be made into food. There were also monsters that would donate their magic for some scientific experimentation as well, but that topic was pretty hush-hush. 

Sans heaved a sigh and stood up, smiling at his brother one last time before leaving the room. He made his way down the stairs and plopped down heavily on the living room couch. There was still some time before Sans had to pick Frisk up from Grillby’s so he lounged on his back for a while. After several minutes, he reached a single hand into his jacket pocket, thankful that he’d been too lazy to take it off. The tips of his phalanges found what he had been looking for and he pulled a single photograph from the breast pocket. He stared at it for what felt like hours, admiring the single subject in the black and white photo. _i’m going through a lot of fuss for you._ He thought, staring deeply into the big, softly smiling eyes , _i hope you appreciate it._ Who was he kidding? Of course his efforts, despite being a little bit less than gentlemanly, were going to be appreciated. 

\---

Sans strolled into Grillby’s speakeasy that night noticing that there was now a guard at the front door. _good. took him long enough._ Thought the short mobster to himself as he gave the massive wolf the password Grillby had told him to give. Undoubtedly, the fire elemental had decided to increase security since the Salvation incident last week. Granted, the place had never needed such tactics before. Who would be stupid enough to bust into a building full of mobsters, after all? But one could never be too careful these days, especially in a city that had not one, but **five** different mobs. The people had started leaving already, considering he’d waited until nearly one in the morning to show up. He didn’t want to show up and fluster Frisk at her job, not during her first full shift. Out of the corner of his eye socket, he noticed two familiar servers that hadn’t been here a few nights back. If memory served him correctly, Monster Kid had asked to have the night off to celebrate someone’s birthday and June had gone home sick about an hour before Frisk had arrived. 

From the looks of things Frisk was doing a fantastic job as a waitress here, easily capable of carrying a couple trays while weaving through throngs of people. He caught her grinning and giving a ‘thumbs up’ to the young mouse waitress and he couldn’t help but feel warm inside. She was making friends with her coworkers. Sans suddenly felt himself wishing she could just continue working here where she was safe, while he and Papyrus handled the dangerous stuff. He highly doubted she would cater to his wishes if it meant that it would interfere with finding her lost brother. If they managed to locate him tomorrow, it meant that the human girl could rest easy knowing he was safe. Then perhaps he could convince her to keep herself out of harm’s way. There had to be a way to keep her away from rival gangs that didn’t involve taking her to Magnolia headquarters. Locking her up at home was an appealing idea, except for the misery she would undoubtedly feel at the loss of freedom. He couldn’t bring himself to do that to her; she wasn’t a prisoner. 

And speaking of the lovely human girl, she was just finishing up with her shift. The tips were being split evenly between the three servers and Grillby was being his usual, somewhat invasive self. “So, you’re staying with Sans and his brother I take it? You remember what I said about that room upstairs, right? It still applies if you don’t want his brother to hear you two.” He heard the older bartender say. _what the fresh heck did he just say ?!_ Sans’s mind was reeling. Exactly what had happened while he and Papyrus searched for signs of her older brother? For crying out loud, was he going to have to ask her to quit her job and stay home? And why was Grillby offering to let her use an upstairs bedroom for sexual purposes? Well, he was just going to have a talk with the barkeep and clear a few things up, it seemed. Suddenly, Frisk whipped around to look at him, eyes wide. She looked uncomfortable. Okay, perhaps the talk could wait. He grinned widely at her and winked, hoping to calm her down. 

She seemed too flustered to deal with hanging around any longer. 

The next thing he knew, she was ushering him out of the speakeasy, half-dragging him in her haste to get the hell out of there. Whatever had happened tonight had flustered her to the point of nearly fleeing the scene, so when they piled into the Buick, he decided to act nonchalant. Maybe it would help to calm her down. “so, how was your first full night workin’ at grillby’s?” He asked as he started up the car and shifted it into drive. “Um, it was…. interesting.” She said dismissively, “Where is Papyrus? I thought he’d be with you.” So much for her discomfort melting away. He explained to her that Papyrus had turned in for the night a few hours ago, but wisely left out reading him his favorite bedtime story, in case she got it in her head that his brother wasn’t as tough as he looked. 

He decided to change the subject to one that had been itching at him for the last few minutes. He asked her if she had any luck today. She shook her head. “The only things that I’ve learned tonight are that stripes signify monster minors and that Grillby is willing to let me use his guest room upstairs if you and I need a place to get busy.” Well, **that** certainly got his attention, and fast. It was hard to control the curiosity that shot up within him. Once again, he was wondering about the night’s events and what could have possibly happened to cause Grillby to offer an upstairs bedroom to her… and also apparently, him. What had she told the fire man about their relationship? Did it mean that she was interested in him sexually? Why hadn’t she come to him about it first if that was the case? Could she be shy despite having flirted with him on more than one occasion? There were so many questions running through his skull and not enough answers for his liking. Sans was quiet for a moment, hoping that he was able to mask his interest in the topic. “what’d ya tell him?” He asked before he could stop himself. 

The long, pointed look she gave him was an obvious one. Frisk could tell he was interested in her answer, no matter how much he tried to hide it. Shit. So much for acting nonchalant. She remained quiet for an almost frustrating amount of time before the corners of her soft, pink mouth turned up. “None of your business.” Her answer was dismissive, but the look on her face suggested she was hiding something. If he wasn’t mistaken, that secret knowledge she was keeping from him had to be something she could use as leverage against him. Perhaps she might use it to torment him while he tried to remain a gentleman around her. He tried pouting at her, hoping she would change her mind and give him a solid answer, but to no success. Wordlessly, he drove on. The rest of the car ride was silent, despite his mind buzzing with possibilities. 

Once they were home, Frisk had bid him good night and scurried off to wash away the smells of the speakeasy. Sans hadn’t found anything wrong with the way she smelled, but he supposed that a shower would soothe her mind and body. He took a deep breath and tried not to think about her planning weird stuff with Grillby that involved him, especially when she was remaining mum about it. Peeling off his jacket, he slung it over a chair and set to work unbuttoning his vest. His fingers didn’t want to work right while his mind pictured Frisk beneath him in a bed above the bar. The bony appendages kept getting caught in the button holes. Slightly put off, he loosened his tie instead, but as his mind drifted back to a very delicious image of Frisk beckoning him to give her ecstasy, he fumbled with that too. Thoroughly frustrated now, he fought with both articles of clothing until he was finally free of them. Wadding them up together, he chucked them into the chair with a huff and undid several buttons on his shirt. He had to cool himself off. Sans had just about had enough. 

Plopping down on the couch, he moved his hat over his eye sockets so that it blocked off most of his vision. As luck would have it, from under the brim he could still see the bathroom door and his bedroom door. Well, that was fine by him. Trying his hardest to ignore the lewd thoughts dancing inside his head, he shut his eyes and instead focused on the muffled sounds of the upstairs shower. _yeah, i’ll just let the water lull me to sleep._ He thought to himself, letting his eyelids droop to a close. He lay on the couch listening for several minutes, feeling himself start to relax and unwind. After a while, the water finally stopped and there were a few minutes of silence. Sans was halfway between sleep and being awake, but he didn’t move from his spot on the couch. The sound of footsteps floated down to him and he begrudgingly opened his eye sockets. Without moving whatsoever, he glanced up towards the upper level of the house. In no way was he prepared for the sight before him. 

Frisk stood at the railing, leaning over it and studying his motionless form. Her damp hair dripped on the bare skin of her shoulders and tiny droplets of water slid down the smooth surface, leaving thin trails in their wake. The little temptress was wearing nothing but a smile and a towel as she watched him. Presumably, she was thinking him to be asleep. His body froze on the spot, unconsciously deciding to humor her assumptions while his mind was screaming at him to go to her. But he couldn’t. He needed to force himself to stay on the couch and control himself. After several tense minutes, he heard her sigh in resignation and enter his bedroom. Had she been hoping he was awake? And if so, did she want him? His body nearly felt as if it were aflame with his desire for her touch, fanned by her actions. He lay there on the couch for what seemed like forever, tossing and turning, trying to force himself to sleep. All to no avail. His thoughts of her were springing forward one after another in a seemingly unending barrage of temptation. The possibility of him actually getting any sleep was starting to look slim and after a few more minutes, he finally sat up. He had to DO something about this or he’d never get to sleep. 

Maybe he could go upstairs and talk to her. Yeah, that sounded like a perfectly acceptable thing to do. She had probably already changed into her nightgown by now, so nothing about his late night visit would be improper… aside from the hour, anyway. He repeated this train of thought over and over with each step he took towards the bedroom. Twisting the doorknob quietly so as not to wake Papyrus, he slowly entered the room on tiptoe. He almost felt like a cat burglar or petty thief. There was the object of his affection, lying peacefully in his bed with the comfy covers tucked all the way up to her chin. All that was poking out was her head. Coming to a stop next to the bed, he stared down at her. Her breath was slow and shallow, her eyes closed as she peacefully dreamed. She was clearly asleep, so the best thing to do would be to return to the couch and talk to her in the morning. But perhaps one little kiss wouldn’t hurt. Just one chaste smooch and he could return to the living room and get some shut-eye without his mind working overtime. It probably wasn’t his smartest idea, but that didn’t matter to him right now. It was late, he was tired and he wanted a simple kiss. Leaning over her, Sans pressed his teeth to her lips carefully, sighing in bliss as he savored the soft sensation. 

And then her mouth was opening, his tongue slipping inside automatically before he could stop himself. He pressed a hand to the mattress so as not to lose his balance and fall on her. Frisk’s arms slid around him and pulled him into an embrace. Was she giving him the go-ahead? He wondered briefly if he should stop, but she was kissing him passionately, her hands gliding down his back. Unable to help himself, Sans buried a hand in her hair as he ravished her mouth. A soft moan of appreciation sounded in her mouth and seeped into his. Okay, this had not been part of his plan, but he couldn’t say he was opposed to these developments. Wanting to hold her in his arms, he pulled the sheet back and gawked in surprise when he discovered that she’d gone to bed topless. _What the hell?!_ His thoughts were going crazy. Was she trying to seduce him? If so, she was doing a damn good job!

Her cheeks were blushing beautifully when he leaned down to taste of the skin she’d bared to him and he felt his self-restraint weaken considerably at her throaty moan. What was it about this girl that made him want to bury himself inside her and have her trembling under his fingertips? Her breasts were soft, pliant, and the taste of her skin only made him burn for her. The feeling of fingers tugging at his dress shirt caused him to break away from her long enough only to free himself of it. Not caring where it landed, he threw it off and was instantly gratified when her fingers slid silkily over his bones. It felt so good that a shudder of delight ripped through him. Had she done this before? Because it sure as hell felt like she knew exactly what she was doing. Her fingers were doing things to him that he hadn’t felt in a long time, things he couldn’t accomplish by his own hand. Perhaps it was the softness of her touch, the softness of her very being. His own hands were greedy for her, every inch of skin; the need to touch her was almost unbearable. 

The way Frisk was biting her lip was enough to alert him to the sensation of his magic pooling in his trousers. She was beautiful, powerful with the way her eyes shimmered with desire. They looked like twin pools of molten chocolate and that look in her eyes made him feel compelled to throw back the covers and bury himself inside her, rutting like a wild animal. Here she was, topless in his bed, under his body and willingly giving herself to him. He wanted to wrap her legs around his hips as he entered her; he wanted to feel her all around his length as he plunged it into her depths; he wanted her screaming his name all night long until her voice was hoarse. She was dangerous. It took no small amount of self control to take both of her hands in one of his and stop her actions. No. If his desires came true tonight, they might risk waking his younger brother and they couldn’t have that. “careful,” he warned her softly, “or else i might lose control.” And despite her usual shy personality, her eyes held a challenge. Her plump lips curled into a sassy smile before they parted and his eye lights were fixated on them as she spoke, “You have control? Could’ve fooled me.” _ooh , right in the pride._ Sans thought to himself as his body tensed up. He normally had control, but ever since she had come into his life it seemed like it was slipping through his fingers. There was a light blue cast to her skin as he felt his soul yearn for her and her eyes flickered to it hungrily. She looked as if she wanted to touch it, caress it, but if he allowed that he’d be putty in her skilled little hands. She had enough power over him as it was.

Instead, he yanked the covers completely off her body, intent on teasing her hips with his touches. To his shock, she was naked as the day she was born and he groaned as he felt the last shreds of his self control leave him. Who needed that, anyway? The tightening of his trousers increased and his hardness was almost painful, but he viciously ignored it. Frisk was a lady and despite how much he wanted her in the dirtiest ways, he was not so uncouth as to put his own pleasure above her own. Kneeling between her legs, he lowered himself to kiss the inside of each thigh before sliding his tongue over her hot slit. Her yelp of surprise halted his actions and he went still, hoping she hadn’t risen Papyrus from his sleep. When he was certain it was safe to continue, he warned her not to make too much noise, but also admitted that he had no intention of stopping even if his brother walked in on them. 

Her embarrassed expression only served to spur him on and he continued his ministrations, letting his tongue swirl around and over the bud nestled within her folds. Her moans were driving him crazy, pushing him beyond the point of reason. Hadn’t she ever had the pleasure of being serviced this way? He supposed not, as it wasn’t exactly a common practice, but he sure as hell was going to make sure she enjoyed every second of it. And perhaps he was being a little selfish, but he wanted her to enjoy every second she spent with _him_ specifically. If getting to that point involved bringing Frisk extreme pleasure, then he was all for it. Her hips bucked against him, craving more of his attention, driving him on. His hands gripped them, keeping her close to his mouth as he watched her chest shakily rise and fall with each shuddering breath. She was trying to moan quietly, trying her best not to cause a ruckus and it only made Sans **want** to make her scream. Her back arched a moment later and she released, her hot liquid orgasm bursting forth in a rush against his mouth. 

He had never before been so entranced by anything in his life.

Sitting back on his knees, he looked down at her collapsed form with awe. She looked entirely sated while also being exhausted. He was just about ready to explode if he didn’t sheath himself inside her soon, but he wanted to be sure that she’d give him the go ahead. “hey sweetheart, you okay? it looked like you just went to pieces there.” He teased, his voice gentle. Her eyes fluttered closed and she didn’t respond. “frisk?” He tried again, reaching forward to brush her hair from her face. Unconscious. Well, that was just his luck, wasn’t it? Her release must have been so powerful that it knocked her out. Sighing to himself, he resigned himself to having to take care of himself in the shower. He could use one in any case, as her juices were dripping down his jaw. First things first though, he needed to get a towel, clean her up and tuck her back into bed. Chuckling to himself, he moved towards the door and turned to smile at her slumbering form one more time before exiting his bedroom. 

He barely had time to stop himself from running right into his brother. Immediately, he closed the door before the taller skeleton could see into the room. “SO… DID YOU TWO HAVE FUN IN THERE?” The tone of Papyrus’s voice was one of smug amusement. He was leaning against the railing with his arms crossed over his chest, a towel held between his forearms. “erm… heya paps. whatcha doin’ up so late? i didn’t wake ya, did i?” Sans asked, hoping that if he ignored his brother’s question he might have a chance at avoiding an explanation. But Papyrus was having none of it. “DON’T EVEN TRY TO DENY IT SANS, IT’S PERFECTLY CLEAR YOU’VE DECIDED TO BECOME QUITE THE CUNNILINGUIST!” 

Sans’s eye sockets widened in surprise that his brother had decided it put it so bluntly. “okay, okay, ya got me. i’m sorry you had to hear that, bro.” The shorter skeleton apologized, scratching the back of his skull sheepishly. _wow, talk about awkward. hopefully paps won’t say anything to frisk at breakfast about all of this._ He thought to himself. Papyrus grinned down at his older brother and offered him the towel he’d been holding. “HERE YOU ARE, BROTHER. YOU CAN USE THIS TO WIPE THE JISM OFF OF YOUR FACE!” He said unapologetically, causing the shorter skeleton to groan. “aw, c’mon paps. don’t call it jism . that makes it sound worse than it really is.” Sans said, taking this towel and cleaning the sticky fluids from his face. He would need to take care of Frisk before getting in the shower, so he decided to usher Papyrus back to his own room. “SO… WHAT WAS THAT ABOUT NOT BEING A CREEP ?” Papyrus managed to ask before Sans shoved him back into his own room with a grunt. He’d count himself lucky if his brother didn’t tease him mercilessly for the next several days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *The Great War refers to World War I. "Cunnilinguist" was used because the term "muff-diver" first appeared in 1935. Also, the subject of the picture will be revealed in a future chapter. Hope you all liked seeing things from Sans's perspective!


	12. Temmie Village

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for patiently waiting for me to finish this chapter! After months of grief, depression and then apathy, followed by working overtime everyday, getting sick and injured at work, I've finally gotten my creativity back! The first four pages were written as small snippets here and there and the rest came when I finally got some free time. My schedule is still pretty full, so updates won't be weekly anymore, but I'll try to update once a month or more. Thanks again to ShiningWings for beta reading!

### Chapter Twelve: Temmie Village 

The sounds of chirping birds roused her from sleep and Frisk slowly cracked open a single brown eye to greet the day. Her whole body felt refreshed and energized, and she couldn’t remember the last time she had slept so well. Taking her time, the girl stretched her arms and legs out languidly and sat up, letting the blankets pool around her bare waist. Heat flooded her cheeks as memories of the previous night rushed to the forefront of her mind. In a brazen move, she had gone to sleep in Sans’s bed wearing nothing but her birthday suit and had awoken to feel Sans pressing his teeth to her lips. Things had then escalated wildly from there.

Just what the hell was wrong with her?!

Whether it was due to fatigue and a sleep-addled mind, or whether it was out of sheer curiosity, she had pushed Sans past the level of decency. Granted, he _had_ come into the bedroom late at night and started it by kissing her without her consent, but her thirst for more had escalated Sans’s advances into lewd, lascivious behavior. It was a wicked thing to do to him when he’d attempted to retain control of his desire. Despite this, Frisk was unapologetic. Last night’s events had opened up an entire world of possibilities for her now that she had this newfound knowledge. So, she wasn’t the only one who could be made to feel helpless with desire. The fact that her touch could drive a man to such lengths that he would ignore his own pleasure to bring her to the edge was exhilarating. For the first time in her life, Frisk felt powerful. She felt as though there was finally something that she could handle. 

It was not a feeling she wanted to surrender. At the same time, she was certain that it would do her no favors if she abused this new power. Nope, she could not bring herself to manipulate the short skeleton to her will relentlessly. After all, despite his less than subtle come-ons, he seemed like a decent guy for a gangster. Slipping out of bed, she stood and let her gaze fall to the mattress. The tangled sheets were a silent reminder of last night’s activities. Oh, what _dirty_ things Sans had done to her in his bed… things she wouldn’t mind learning more about in the future. Right now, however, it was time to shower and dress, and get on with her day. Gathering an outfit for the day she was about to spend with her two favorite hoodlums, she tossed on a robe that belonged to the older skeleton brother and made her way to the bathroom to start her daily routine.

\---

The bathroom door closed as Sans was just reaching the top of the staircase, and he couldn’t help but feel a yearning in his soul towards the young lady that had driven him wild last night. There was a sudden, less-than-gentlemanly desire to join her in the bathroom, but he wisely stamped it down. What was wrong with him lately? Instead, he strode to his room to change out of the clothes he’d slept in last night and was immediately greeted by the messy bedsheets. His cheekbones burned blue as memories from just a few hours ago made his magic start pooling in his trousers. _nope, not gonna think about that right now. just get the clothes and change._ Sans told himself, opening up his underwear drawer. 

On one side of the drawer were his underwear and socks, on the other side were hers, and all the clothing was folded neatly. This practically blew his mind. It was scandalous enough that he’d allow her to share his dresser space, but to use the same underwear drawer… he felt himself get a tad too excited about it. Not only that, but she had folded his clothes, she’d touched his underwear. Immediately, the image of her touching his underwear while he was wearing them popped into his head and he shook his head profusely to banish it. No! Now was **not** the time to be fantasizing about such a lewd situation. Not with Papyrus jubilantly preparing breakfast downstairs and Frisk showering only one room over. 

Deciding to change as quickly as he could – so he could avoid getting caught with a blatant arousal – he quickly started undoing the buttons to his shirt. Once it was off, he chucked it in the direction of his hamper, hoping it went in as he fumbled with his pants. Gee, his pants were far less uncomfortable when he wasn’t pitching a tent in them! Once he was finally free of the blasted things he single handedly yanked his undershorts down with one hand as he reached into the drawer with the other for a fresh pair. He put them on in a hurry, only to realize it was a pair of Frisk’s panties. Flustered and more than a little aroused, he scrambled out of them in record time only to hear the most horrifying noise that the moment could possibly have had. _Riiiiip!_

Oh no. Oh no, no, **NO!** But it was too late and the torn panties hung loosely from one of his bony hands while his mind screamed silently. Sans stood there for several seconds in a state of shock, before he realized that he was stark naked, fully erect and had a pair of ripped panties dangling from his phalanges. Suddenly he sprang to life and was yanking his own clothing on as fast as possible. Once he was fully dressed he darted around the room, wondering where he could stash the evidence that he’d had the wrong underwear on. He couldn’t throw in in the waste bin beside the desk because Frisk would find it, couldn’t throw it away downstairs because Papyrus would catch him in the act. So, with nowhere else to put them, he shoved the panties into his pants pocket and got the hell out of his own bedroom and headed downstairs. 

Shortly after Sans had returned from changing into a fresh new set of clothes, Papyrus was whistling a merry tune as he set about preparing breakfast for the three of them. He’d made a massive amount of large eggs – sunny side up - with thick, sizzling slabs of bacon to the side. There was also a sizeable stack of toast for soaking up the yolk once it popped. The taller skeleton had also prepared a bowl of fresh fruit to balance out the meal. “SO, DEAR BROTHER, I MUST SAY THAT THE SLEEPING ARRANGEMENTS WE CURRENTLY HAVE ARE QUITE SMART. WITH MISS FRISK UPSTAIRS AND YOU SLEEPING NEAR THE FRONT DOOR, WE SHOULD BE WELL PREPARED TO DEAL WITH ANY AND ALL THREATS TO THE HUMAN GIRL.” The taller mobster stated jovially. “WE WOULDN’T WANT SOME FILTHY, DEGENERATE PERVERT SNEAKING INTO YOUR BEDROOM AND HAVING HIS WAY WITH HER, NOW WOULD WE?”

Sans said nothing as he sat at the table with the daily newspaper, a perturbed look on his face as he eyed his younger brother in mild annoyance. He couldn’t be too upset with Papyrus’s ribbing, but did he have to start in so damned early? It was bad enough to be caught immediately after the deed – and with the evidence dripping down his face – but to make matters worse, he’d had to take care of himself in the shower afterwards. And rubbing one out under the spray of water with the knowledge that his baby brother had been standing outside the door hadn’t been an easy task. Were he a human, he’d complain that he was going to get blue balls, but since his were already that color due to his magic, the point was moot.

The newspaper crinkled as he readjusted it to continue reading the article he’d started a few minutes ago, but within a matter of seconds, Papyrus had made a noise as if he’d just remembered something important. “OH, BUT WAIT! I THINK WE MIGHT HAVE MISSED THE BOAT ON THAT ONE, NYEH HEH HEH!” He chuckled, turning to grin at his elder brother. Sans grunted in response to that and pointedly went back to his paper. Taking the hint, Papyrus started to set the table, still chipper enough to whistle as he did so. He dutifully set a place for both himself and a place for Frisk without dawdling in the slightest. When he got to Sans’s seat, however, he stopped. He leaned down a-ways until he was right next to the side of Sans’s skull.

He waited. 

Sans did his best to ignore him. 

He hovered a little closer until he was only an inch away.

Sans found it increasingly difficult to stop reading the same sentence over and over.

“SO… WHAT WAS THAT ABOUT NOT BEING A CREEP?”

Sans let out a loud grunt of aggravation and whirled to face Papyrus, who was looking particularly smug at this point. “it wasn’t like that, paps.” He tried to explain, his voice a mixture of embarrassment and frustration, “i just went in to talk to her-” But Papyrus cut him off. “YES, GOOD JOB **TALKING** TO HER, BROTHER. VERY EFFECTIVE!” The shorter skeleton blanched, accidentally crumpling the paper in his bony hands. “it was only going to be an innocent visit.” Sans insisted, his face firm with resolve to prove he wasn’t in the wrong. Though he’d been expecting his younger brother to rib him and give him a hard time, he was woefully unprepared for the full extent of it. “I AM ABSOLUTELY CERTAIN IT WAS.” Had there not been an undertone of sarcasm to the younger brother’s statement, it might have sounded as if he were being supportive, “NOW, DID YOU WANT JAM ON YOUR TOAST OR WOULD YOU RATHER HAVE _LADY_ BUTTER?”

Sans lifted a brow bone in confusion. “lady butter?”

“AH, I REALLY SHOULD’VE KNOWN. WHAT SURPRISES ME IS THAT YOU’RE STILL HUNGRY FOR IT AFTER YOU DINED UPON THAT MUFFIN…” Papyrus eyed his brother as he trailed off, setting a place for him at the table. Sans groaned and dragged a hand over his skull. “all right… i get it. i’ll admit it - i’m a jerk, i’m a creep and i shoulda stayed on the couch instead of diving headfirst into frisk’s fur burger. happy now?” Papyrus sputtered unintelligibly for a few moments at the sheer audacity of the term ‘fur burger’, but ultimately decided not to say anymore on the subject as he heard the bathroom door swing open. It was best that the young lady not be privy to the topic at hand. He lowered his voice to a whisper as the sound of her footsteps began to descend the stairway. “Just be careful Sans.” Papyrus warned quietly, “We don’t want ‘you-know-who’ finding out about this. Remember the job.”

The job in question was one that Sans had undertaken quite some time ago but had been sworn to secrecy not to divulge. However, during their drive home once their human-search had proven fruitless he’d decided that now was the time to let his baby brother in on it. After all, he was going to need his loyalty and strength. He was going to need his help and his secrecy. The shorter mobster had shared the information with Papyrus, had shown him the secret picture that had been in his possession for several months now. Of course his brother was more than willing to help! To him, keeping the whole business deal under wraps had become his new top priority. Knowing this, Sans had just enough time to nod silently before Frisk stepped into the kitchen.

\---

Once Frisk set foot into the kitchen, she was immediately greeted with the sight of the two brothers grinning back at her. Papyrus had been leaning down, his head close to his brother’s in a way that made them seem to be conspiring. It wasn’t anything terribly out of the ordinary, as they obviously had mafia information that they couldn’t share with her, but her suspicions were still raised. Her expression was schooled into a smile - hopefully one that didn’t advertise her suspicions – and she greeted them warmly. “Morning fellas. Did you gentleman sleep well last night?” The girl asked, taking her place at the table as breakfast was being piled onto their plates. As she’d asked her innocent question, she noticed Sans’s hand shake the slightest bit as he reached for his coffee cup and quickly take a sip as if to conceal the faint dusting of blue on his cheekbones.

His brother, on the other hand, was not nearly so quiet. “WHY YES INDEED, MISS FRISK! I SLEPT LIKE A BABY KNOWING THAT WE HAVE BEEN DUTIFULLY ASSISTING YOU IN THE SEARCH FOR YOUR ELDER BROTHER! NOT ONLY HAVE WE BEEN SEARCHING DILIGENTLY, BUT WE BELIEVE WE HAVE A ROUGH APPROXIMATION OF HIS WHEREABOUTS!” Papyrus announced proudly, puffing his chest out. At this, Frisk dropped her fork in surprise and excitement. “Really? Where?” She asked, nearly launching herself from her chair in her urgency. Sans felt his soul flutter a little at her expression and leaned forward. “temmie village. we don’t know his exact hiding spot, but we figured on the three of us scoping it out.”

This was a fantastic development! Considering Sans and Papyrus knew more about monster-kind than she did herself, it looked as if she might have been right to trust them after all! The mere concept of two mafia mobsters helping her find her older brother was mind boggling in itself, but the fact that they were actually delivering nearly blew her mind. She was going to see Chara again. He was going to be safe and then she’d get some much-needed answers. But a hint of doubt crept into her mind. That first night at the MTT resort she had seen Sans making a business deal with the Calzotti Famiglia’s underboss, Vincenzo Lombadi. Was it just a friendly business deal to provide magic to mix into alcohol or were the Magnolias in league with the gang? She didn’t know yet and that part worried her. What would happen to Chara if Sans and Papyrus knew of his location?

It was a difficult question to ask, especially considering they had opened their home to her and had come to her rescue, but she had to know. “What’s going to happen if we do find my brother? You guys aren’t going to hand him over to the Calzotti Famiglia, are you?” She asked, worried for Chara’s welfare. At this, Sans chuckled and shook his head, taking a sip of his coffee. “and give those greasy bozos the opportunity to butcher him after everything you’ve done to find him? not a chance, sweetheart.” Frisk blinked at him in surprise, but before she could say anything, Papyrus piped up. “WE WERE THINKING OF SETTING HIM UP IN A SAFEHOUSE, ACTUALLY. OR EVEN PROVIDING HIM WITH A BODYGUARD IF NEED BE. WORRY NOT, MISS FRISK, YOUR BROTHER HAS CALZOTTI SECRETS THAT WOULD BENEFIT THE ENTIRETY OF THIS CITY. WE WANT HIM ALIVE AS MUCH AS YOU DO!”

“You do?” She asked, eyes wide.

“YES, OF COURSE! WHY ELSE WOULD THE MAYOR HAVE HIRED HIM?”

“paps!” Sans scolded, glaring in annoyance at his younger brother from his place at the table. A little too late, the taller skeleton realized his slip up. “OOPSIE. YOU, UH… YOU WEREN’T SUPPOSED TO KNOW THAT.” Papyrus admitted sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his skull in embarrassment, “COULD YOU KEEP THAT BETWEEN THE THREE OF US PLEASE?” Frisk nodded mutely, pondering upon this new tidbit of information. Asgore Dreemurr, the mayor of Ebott City had hired her brother specifically to procure valuable secrets of one of the most powerful mob families in the entire city. But to what end, other than getting them out of power and protecting the innocent? What else would he have to gain? This was the man who would’ve been their adoptive father if Toriel hadn’t left him for reasons she’d never disclosed to her loving children. No, it seemed that if she wanted answers, she’d have to seek out the mayor.

Talking to the mayor would have to wait for now. The most important thing to do right now was search Temmie Village for any trace of her brother. If she could meet up with him, they could share information and she could finally get some answers. Despite the help Sans and Papyrus were giving her, she would still need to be careful. Knowing Chara, he might stay hidden if he were to see mobsters following her. While Frisk was pondering what to do, a faint mumbling caught her ears. Her interest was immediately piqued, and she focused her attention discreetly on the sound. It seemed one of the boys had left the radio on in the living room and a newsie was broadcasting with an urgent bulletin.

“This just in! A massive shootout has taken place between two of Ebott City’s notorious mafia gangs, The Dead Eyes and The Salvation. Police have quarantined the scene of the crime and citizens are advised to remain far from the bay on the east side of the city. All businesses located within or near the docks are to close their doors for the remainder of the week so that the evidence remains untampered with. There are bodies as far as the eye can see, folks! Not all of them have been identified yet, but here’s a list of the names we do have.” The reporter said before beginning to read the names off a long, long list. Frisk listened as more and more names were read off the list, barely registering Sans making a motion of displeasure and Papyrus walking over to turn the radio off.

”I THINK THAT’S ENOUGH RADIO FOR NOW, DON’T YOU?” Papyrus asked the two of them, “TIME’S A-WASTING!” The taller gent – bless his soul – was about as far from subtle as a guy could get. But in this case, she had to agree. The three of them only had so much time before she’d need to get to Grillby’s and start tonight’s shift. And unfortunately, Sans hadn’t left a single hickey on her neck. Rats! Well, it looked as if she might have to swallow her pride and ask him for a favor. After all, it would benefit the both of them in the not-so-long run. The three finished their breakfast in record time and grabbed their hats and jackets, rushing out the front door. They scrambled unceremoniously into the Buick and were soon speeding off towards the direction of Temmie Village.

It took the trio longer than she though it would to reach their destination. During their drive, she pondered over what could have stopped her from realizing the village of the tems was the answer. After all, their delivery tem had recently gotten far better at English _and_ the note from Chara had been hidden in their rolled-up newspaper. Granted, that logic could also suggest he was hiding out at the local newspaper, but that was an unnecessary risk. There was a new question on her mind now. How exactly did the skeletons know that her newspaper was delivered by Temmie in particular? The city was large enough that there were several delivery routes and Frisk knew Temmie was the only tem the paper had hired. The only possible explanation was that perhaps the Magnolias had been watching Chara’s office longer than she had realized… but how long, she didn’t know. What information did the monster mob have on her and her brother? That information was something she just might have to find out, but for now it was better to keep her trap shut until she could discuss it with her brother. He might be against it, but like it or not, Frisk was part of this too. And together, they were going to get to the bottom of this. 

The streets in this area were completely unfamiliar to her, as she had never had the opportunity to visit her friend Temmie before, so they were going to have a bit of a time finding her. She tried to recall any landmarks the girl had tried to give her back when they first met, but that was a year ago and her English had been nearly incomprehensible. But Papyrus was confident that he had a good idea of the location, but he seemed to take a wrong turn or seven somewhere along the line. Sans had gotten tired of being lost and had insisted on an alternate route, which landed them in a part of the city none of them had remembered ever setting foot in before. When Frisk was asked for her input, her directions surprisingly lead them right to Temmie Village. Perhaps subconsciously she _did_ remember some of what her friend had told her. Once Papyrus had parked the car along the sidewalk, the three of them climbed out and stood stunned at their surroundings.

To say that Temmie Village was like nothing the rest of the city would have been an understatement. Frisk was certain she’d never seen so many monsters that not only looked alike, but looked uncannily the same. From the way they moved to the clothing they wore, right down to their uniform hairstyle, it reminded her of a house of mirrors at a carnival. There were a few exceptions of course, what with some wearing fedoras, others in berets or cloches. The main difference were the hats themselves, but she wasn’t seeing many newsie caps. If Chara was indeed laying low in this part of town, he must be rather exceptional at it. Anxiety started to creep up on her as she realized the sheer scale of the place meant that her small search party mind not find her brother today. And if that were the case, would he flee? She certainly hoped not. Who knows where he would go from here? And would he bother contacting her again for fear she’d lead mobsters to him? Her shoulders sagged a little at the notion for a moment before she felt Papyrus’s hand on her shoulder. Wordlessly, she looked up at him. 

“WORRY NOT, MISS FRISK! WE ARE CERTAIN TO FIND YOUR BROTHER TODAY!”

Staring at him for a few moments, it hit her that he openly and honestly believed that they would achieve their goal today. Surprised, she looked to Sans, who winked and gave her a thumbs up. A small smile stretched her lips until it became a full, beaming grin. She suddenly felt filled with optimism that they might succeed, and she nodded in affirmation, “All right, let’s find Chara!” And with her returned vigor, the trio set out to explore each street and side street. They asked the local tems, but the usual response was a simple, “hOI, I’m Temmie! And dis is my friend, Temmie!” Nevertheless, they continued to search for hours upon hours. Still, they had no luck. Eventually, it was time for them to take a break for lunch lest they want to continue and possibly miss a clue or lead on their target.

About halfway through their meal, Frisk excused herself to the ladies’ room and left the two brothers at their table while she went to empty her bladder. When she was finished and washing her hands, a familiar face came out of one of the stalls. It was none other than her favorite delivery tem! “Temmie?” Frisk asked, glad she was seeing the girl in the newsboy cap. The girl in question gasped in surprise and joy as she ran over and hugged her. “Oh, Frisk! Temmie missed you at da office! Tem was _so_ worried about her friend, where you go?” She asked, squeezing the human in her arms. Once Frisk was released from the tight hug, she gave her friend a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry Temmie, I’m staying with a couple friends where I’ll be safe.” She explained.

The thought of the detective’s office not being a safe place was apparently beyond Temmie. Why would the humans who’ve lived there for a year suddenly not be safe? “Wat? Why is office not safe no more? Is it a detective thing? Chara dint want to go home too. Sumthin about soots.” Temmie began, yammering away with her odd way of talking and complaining about what could only be considered a squatter. “Wait a minute. Are you saying that you know where my brother is?” Frisk asked urgently. Temmie beamed at her with pride. “Of course! Tem is a smart girl who goes to colleg. Chara don’t want Frisk’s friends to see him though. Coooooote! He so shy!”

Of course he wouldn’t want a couple of the Magnolias to find him. Well, at least she was going to get to see her brother with her own eyes. She’d just have to quietly and carefully sneak away from the two mobsters that brought her here, no big deal. Except that it was a huge deal, considering that any kind of disguise she could think of wouldn’t work here. Not when everyone else was a temmie. Frisk peeked her head out of the doorway as Temmie was washing her hands and saw that Sans and Papyrus were busy with some sort of conversation and weren’t looking in her direction. Once she was sure they wouldn’t be caught, she followed her monster friend towards the back of the restaurant and away from prying eyes. 

She was led up a flight of stairs to the upper level of the building where there was a reasonably sized living space. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Frisk vaguely remembered Temmie having previously told her that she lived above a restaurant. The thought simply hadn’t come to mind when she had been busy with everything that had been going on over the last few days. _Well, this is convenient. How did I not realize that Chara would ask our own delivery girl if she could hide him here?_ She wondered to herself. It was just so ridiculous to think that the entire time she was worried for his safety she could have just asked Temmie where he was. Who would even think of something so random? It was such an obvious place to hide, of course she hadn’t thought of it. Taking sanctuary in such a place as this was brilliant.

As she followed Temmie through the doorway to one of the sitting rooms, she held her breath in anticipation. There, seated next to the wall and surrounded by empty, crumpled paper wrappers from chocolate bars was none other than Chara Dreemurr. “Frisk?” He asked, standing immediately upon her entrance, practically leaping out of his seat and striding over to meet her. Unable to help herself, she rushed into the outstretched arms of her big brother. He stank of chocolate, cigarette smoke and body odor, but he was here and he was alive, just as she had hoped. “Chara! I’m so glad you’re safe!” She gushed, feeling tears of relief threatening to spill from her eyes. She had done it. She had found him and he was safe. And she would never take another hug from him for granted again. 

After a few moments of clinging to him for fear that he’d disappear again, she finally let him go and regained her composure. “Where have you been Frisk? Temmie said she hadn’t seen you since she delivered my message to you and that was three days ago. I’ve been worried sick!” He said, looking her over with great scrutiny as if he were scoring her for any signs of assault. She was immediately grateful that she’d chosen to wear slacks instead of a skirt, but nevertheless she was still fairly sore with all she had been through. “I’ve been busy trying to track you down. I deciphered your code and peeped that shipment you were talking about.” Frisk informed him, “However, there were some complications and I had to make a break for it.” At her brother’s prompt, Temmie left the room to give them some privacy and Frisk filled him in on the shipment, her escape, and the events that led her to him. She made sure to carefully omit the sexual details of what happened, but informed her brother that Sans and Papyrus were helping her and keeping her safe from unwanted attention.

She gave him as many details as she could, beginning with the mysterious call she had received that started this whole business. Frisk gave him the details of how she snuck into the MTT resort, dressed as a cigarette girl and how she was able to scope out this situation in disguise with no one the wiser. Sans had become interested in her and had followed her into the changing room but upon learning her last name, had not pushed her further. At that tidbit of information, Chara nodded and reaffirmed their connection with the mayor. Of course mobster wouldn’t want unwanted public attention after a deal with the Calzotti Famiglia. Frisk didn’t tell him about her dream that might possibly not have been a dream, but she mentioned his cipher and told him she’d seen the submachine guns. Unfortunately, she had been found out and had to flee the building from the second story window. He’d laughed about the cookie situation, but his wine-colored eyes widened in horror as she described leaping from the second story window into a dumpster. Again, she had to endure another body check to be certain she was safe. 

When she told him about her harrowing escape from them by clinging to the spare tire on the back of a vehicle, he’d started pacing back and forth. His hands were shaking as he picked up a chocolate bar and bit into it, though whether it was from nerves or rage at the Salvation’s goons, she was unsure. Probably both. When she told him about taking up a waitress disguise at Grillby’s, Chara calmed down considerably and smiled. “Sorry. ‘Steve’ was the first name I could think of when I had to hide out there before. Old Grillby’s a good guy. He’s let me duck in there any time I needed a quick getaway. That old guy likes to pretend to not be able to tell humans apart, but he can be trusted. I know it’s a Magnolia hangout, but that fire elemental will keep you safe. We had a little talk before all this mess happened and he agreed to keep you safe if anything happened to me.” Her brother said candidly, relaxing a bit at the memory. Briefly, she wondered if offering her a place to have sex with a skeleton counted as taking care of her, but she dismissed the thought.

There was absolutely no way she was going to tell her big brother the exact events that happened next, but she did tell him about the bar fight and that Sans had driven her home. She mentioned going to the tailor and finding his coat, but he stopped her and asked why she’d gone there. Frisk blushed at the memory of being trapped between Sans and the office door, her shirt yanked open and the buttons on the steps. The memory of his teeth, his tongue, his skeletal hands upon her person. Her brother didn’t need to know that, so she substituted that she’d popped a few buttons off when undressing and was in too much of a rush to fix them herself. Chara gave her a strange look, but bade her to continue. She picked up at the part where she ran into Papyrus, clarifying that Sans had asked her to stay home so that he could send for her, and then she mentioned the Salvation goons coming for their revenge.

As she spoke of them trying to sully her, she could clearly see her brother’s jaw clench and his eye twitch in anger. He remained quiet as she relayed that part, but his fingers twitched as if they wanted to grab the thugs by the throat and murder them for daring to lay their hands on his precious little sister. He seemed only a little relieved to find out that the skeletons from the Magnolias had saved her and taken her back to their place. Immediately, Chara stopped her to ask if they raped her while she was unconscious and she was quick to tell him no. That seemed to satisfy him, but he was still frowning about her current situation. He clearly didn’t like the idea of her staying with two eligible bachelors, one of which was obviously interested in her. He also was loath to the fact that there was nothing he could do about that. As much as he hated to admit it, she was currently safer with them than she was with her own brother… or at the office. This wasn’t the situation that he had hoped for, but at least she was safe. If anything were to happen to his baby sister... well, he just might snap and go on a killing spree. At the end of her story, she mentioned this morning’s topic of the Magnolias offering him a safe house.

Looking at him as she relayed her information, Frisk could see the dark circles under his bloodshot eyes and the telltale worry lines that seemed as if they hadn’t left his face for days. He was only a few inches taller than her and only a couple years older, but he currently looked like a train wreck. His clothing was disheveled and dirty, the sitting room was littered with empty cigarette packs and multiple ashtrays were scattered about, filled to overflowing with ash and used butts. On a good day, when the siblings would go anywhere together, they were often mistaken for twins as they looked so much alike. Chara used to joke that it was because they both had their mother’s delicate features and Frisk would giggle over her brother admitting he had a feminine facial structure. Currently, he was unshaven. The chair that he had been seated in was close to a phone, so he had probably wanted to be certain he wouldn’t miss news of his sister’s welfare. He was also without his jacket of course, as she was currently wearing it, but his hat sat neglected on a nearby table. His hair was greasy and he looked like a slob, but to Frisk he was a sight for sore eyes.

Once she finished her story, she prompted her brother for his input. He looked deep in thought for the entirety of her story, aside from a few interruptions, but now his expression was strained. “I’m between a rock and a hard place, it seems. Currently, I’ve got Calzotti goons combing the streets for me and now you say the Magnolias are offering me sanctuary? I’m not sure how I feel about that right now. Not after I’ve seen them meet with the Italians on a couple occasions.” Chara began, motioning to Frisk, “You’ll want to write this down.” At his prompt, she produced the small notebook from her inner pocket along with her pencil. When she was ready, Chara took a deep breath and began.

“As you know, the mayor of Ebott City is Asgore Dreemurr, mother’s husband that she separated from prior to adopting us about thirteen years ago. During the time we’ve spent with her, there have occasionally been pieces of mail that have arrived for her, and there would be phone calls. Many of these calls seemed to have been coming from City Hall and she would tell us they weren’t important, that we should just ignore them. You were always a good little girl and followed her directions, but I sometimes listened in on the phone calls. Most of them were Asgore himself, calling to tell her he missed her, begging her to come back to him, yet she always refused. She would tell him that she had a new family now that she’d adopted two human children and that she didn’t want us growing up in ‘that sort of atmosphere’. Asgore would plead with her to return and tell her that he wanted a family again, even though they had lost the child they had together. He said he wanted to be a part of our lives. But mother would always turn him down and claim it wasn’t safe for us ‘after what happened’.” He paused momentarily until she had finished writing. When she looked back up at him, he continued.

“They never really discussed what happened over the phone, but Asgore sounded sincere. It hurt to hear the anguish in his voice every time he talked to Mom. I couldn’t understand why it wouldn’t be safe for us to live with the mayor back then, but things are a bit different now. Asgore hired me to get secrets about the Calzotti Famiglia. He told me that he feared they were going to try to make a deal with a rival gang, maybe merge with one, to drive out the other gangs. Now that sounds beneficial to get rid of the three other gangs, but having one gang with all that power would be dangerous. They could overwhelm the police force and City Hall and take control over the entire city.” At this point, Chara paused and heaved a sigh, “You know, Frisk, when I was there… I could see the regret in his eyes. The sadness in his smile. He knew exactly who he was hiring for this dangerous position and it was eating away at him. But the reputation I’ve built up had made me the best choice for the case. Before I left, he insisted that I be as careful as possible and told me that if things became too dangerous I should drop the case and inform him of it from a safe house. Asgore also assigned me an informant that is good at blending in, to relay information, should it be necessary. That’s the guy who called you.”

Frisk nodded, her pencil flying across the paper as she recorded the information.

“So, he gave some information he had come across and I got right to work. From what I’ve seen, the Calzotti Famiglia seems like they’re sweet on teaming up with the Magnolias to muscle the competition out of the city. They’ve met up a couple times under the pretense of friendly business deals, but it’s to build a relationship between the two mobs. I trust that you’ve heard the news reports that the Dead Eyes and the Salvation had a shootout, resulting in a huge gang massacre. I want you to check my files in the locked filing cabinet drawer against this list of names I wrote down.” He produced a lengthy list and handed it to her, “See how many of the gang members are dead and if there are any survivors. The only good mobster is a dead mobster as far as I’m concerned, especially in this case. I have a feeling that the entire purpose of the shootout was to completely obliterate both gangs. You did mention that you were forced to give up information on those tommy guns to the Magnolias to your skeleton pal. I’m guessing he was in on this.”

Frisk’s pencil stopped moving at once and Chara wished he hadn’t been so blunt. “Sorry Frisk. I… I didn’t mean it like, well. I didn’t mean to upset you.” He was never the best when it came to things like this, so he just bent down to hug her. After only a moment, her arms came up to circle around him. “I understand.” She said softly, before straighten up and speaking with more confidence, “I know you’re not telling me that all those people died because of me, you’re just saying that Sans was doing his job. And you’re right. Both he and his brother are part of the Magnolias whether I like it or not. It’s just that they’ve been so helpful and kind to me, and they’ve both made it clear that they want you and I safe. They knew that the mayor had hired you before I did, and that makes me wonder if maybe Asgore has ties to the Magnolias.”

Chara’s red eyes widened upon hearing that tidbit of information. He hadn’t told Frisk who’d hired him because he hadn’t wanted her to be upset. Clearly, that wasn’t the case. With everything she had gone through in the last few days, it was obvious that he’d underestimated her. She was every bit as clever, slick and brave as he was, she was just less willing to hurt others. “I know I can’t stay cooped up here forever, but for now, this’ll be my safe house. If I find that I have to fly the coop, I’ll contact you.” He said, frowning a little. He hated to do this, he really did, but his sister was far more useful than any joe could’ve been in the same situation. So, with much frustration over the desire to keep his sister out of danger, he heaved a sigh, “Frisk… I hate to put you on the spot, but I still need your help.”

“I thought you might.” She affirmed, “And I’m ready to do whatever it takes. Let’s solve this case.” 

\---

It had been more than a good fifteen minutes since Frisk had excused herself to go to the ladies’ room and Sans was starting to get irritated. There was something fishy going on and he was going to find out what it was. They had waited for her long enough. “But brother, are you certain Miss Frisk simply isn’t having digestive issues in the restroom?” Papyrus asked in a hushed whisper as his older brother slid his chair away from the table. But the shorter skeleton was done waiting for her to return. “i’m sure about this, paps, frisk should’ve been back by now. something fishy is going on here and i don’t like it.” Sans said quietly, getting up from the table and tossing a couple dollars on the surface, “you go check the kitchen and the front of the building, i’ll check the bathroom and circle around the back.” 

“And if I happen to find someone with ill intentions?” Papyrus asked.

“ice ‘em.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, some progress for Frisk! But now, what must she do to solve this case? What do Sans and Papyrus know that they must keep secret? Stay tuned for the next chapter of Deadly Entanglements to find out!


End file.
